Beacon's Warmaster
by Codex Solutus
Summary: After surviving years of galactic warfare, a Cadian is sent to a world that is oblivious to the violence that she lived in on a daily basis. From then on, she struggles to adapt to the world around her while simultaneously teaching its citizens that in the grim darkness of the 41st millennium, there is only war. Rated M for gore.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I don't own the RWBY or the Warhammer 40K Universe. If I did, then a lot of mishaps would have happened years ago.**

* * *

Words: "Words"

Thoughts: ' _Thoughts'_

Yelling: " **YELLING"**

Low Gothic: " **Speaking"**

* * *

 _ **\- Irileth, Cadia -**_

 _ **\- Date: 999.M41 -**_

 _ **\- Status: Under siege -**_

The sun had set hours ago, engulfing the city in a blanket of black. The threat of Chaos lingers in the air and resides within the hearts of citizens as Abaddon has unleashed his 13th Black Crusade on Cadia. At the edge of the city, walls littered with heavily fortified bunkers have been erected to fend off the Forces of Chaos. They knew that the walls would crumble, but every minute the Traitors spend trying bring the walls down is another minute that Cadia has been given to survive.

Within these walls are the 75th Cadian Regiment, also known as the Bastion of Steel, who are prepared to protect the city of Irileth down to the last man. At least, that's what the Commissars want from the troops as Irileth is one of the largest non-Kasr cities of Cadia and it was one the closest to the Forces of Chaos' first stronghold. As of this moment, the front has been unnaturally quiet. This has caused some suspicion amongst the troops, but most of them couldn't let the opportunity to catching up on sleep pass by. Hence, the majority of troops lay on the ground fast asleep, even the Commissars, but with their weapons tucked in their hands. Only a few stayed awake, acting as watchmen to warn others of enemy movement.

It was at this moment when Chaos made its move.

" **INCOMING!** " A voice yelled in the darkness of night, a sentry that had spotted the enemy's movement. As soon as those words left his mouth, gunshots and lasfire erupted from the opposite side. One bolt lodged itself into his skull before detonating, showering the Guardsmen and women around him with his blood and brain matter. Undeterred by the brutal death of their comrade, the men and women of the 75th Cadian Regiment got to their feet and returned fire. Streams of red light erupted from the barrels of their lasguns, killing off cultists and members of Traitor Guard Regiments. Their fortifications provided much needed protection from the besieging Traitors, but they did not provide a proper defense against the sight of the giants that spearheaded the assault.

" **Chaos Marines!** " A lone guardswoman exclaimed as she backpedaled away from the firing port, but she was silenced by a bolt to the back of the head, courtesy of a Commissar. The others who also froze from the sight of Chaos Marines were jolted back into reality by the death of their comrade.

" **Anyone else? No? So stand your ground and keep firing!** " The commissar turns to a group of massive humanoid creatures behind him. "Abhumans, see those traitors? Kill them!"

" **Yes sah!** " The Ogryn Gun Luggers replied in unison. One by one, these sanctioned abhumans took their positions and let loose a hail of bolts from the heavy bolters they carried. However, their accuracy was appalling, so many of the bolts missed their mark. The few bolts that had managed to hit their desired targets were not enough to put down the Traitor Marines.

" **BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!** " One of the Chaos marines yelled out, his vox speakers amplifying his voice, whilst brandishing his chain axe indicating his status as a Khornate Berzerker. Said Berzerker broke into a full sprint along with his fellow berzerkers. Before they could reach the fortifications, the thunderous boom of Leman Russ cannons unleashing hell at the Chaos Marines ended their charge. A bright blue ball of plasma escaped the barrel of a Leman Russ Executioner's main cannon, eradicating a sizable amount of Chaos Marines as well as Traitor Guard Troopers. The night, once as dark as the void, is illuminated by weapons discharge from both sides.

Any advancing Chaos Marines were brought down by accurate fire from the heavy bolters mounted on the Leman Russ tanks or by cannon fire that tore their bodies apart. Any cultists that thought they could use these superhumans as cover were surprised to see their lords fall. Their surprise would be short lived as they would be pelted with lasbolts and stubber rounds. But they did not let these losses slow down their assault. Rather, they kept moving on, eager to spread the corruption of Chaos to the loyalist dogs of the corpse emperor.

At the distance, Chaos Vindicators and Leman Russ Battle Tanks can be seen as they made their way to the walls. "Vindicators at the tree line, concentrate fire!" A tank commander yelled into his vox communicator and savoured the sound of four Leman Russ turrets turning in unison to eradicate the threats. In a symphony of destruction, the four cannons unloaded their blessed anti-tank shells at the Vindicators to great effect.

 ***BOOM***

A Leman Russ exploded as a traitor tank landed a shot at a nick between the turret and the hull. A few more fall from plasma cannon fire from Traitor troops. The burning husks of Cadian armour acted as light for the defenders and markers for the attackers. Then, among the sounds of gunfire and lasfire, a whistling could be heard. " **EARTHSHAKERS!** " True to the guardsman's word, Basilisk Earthshaker shells peppered the armour blockade as well as tore off a section of the Iriliethian wall. Guardsmen scurried to fill in the gap in the wall with heavy weapons teams, carefully stepping over bits of gore that once belonged to their fellow Cadians.

To aid with the defense of the gap, Colonel Fontane had requested one of the Leman Russes to take up a defensive position at the gap. The troopers waited, idly fingering the trigger guards of their weapons. To their left, they could hear the mighty treads of a Leman Russ Executioner crushing rubble and its main cannon swivelling to aim at the hole on the wall. As they waited, the others who were still positioned within the walls kept firing at the Chaos troops, albeit the steady increase of friendly casualties. The sheer amount of enemy troops caused constant reloading and cooling of overheating weaponry.

Little do they know of the threats above.

Descending from the skies, with midnight blue power armour, came the Night Lords. These marines used their Jump Packs to propel themselves from the forest onto a bunker at the top of the fortifications. The weight of their armour coupled with the force of their descent caused the bunker's ceiling to collapse and consequently drop them into the bunker where a squad Guardsmen took their defiant stand against Chaos. The very sight of these infamous traitors appearing through the ceiling caused many Guard troopers to freeze and stare at them in fear. Low and sinister chuckling can be heard from the head of the Chaos Raptor Squad. The standoff was broken when the Commissar of the current squad of Guardsmen barked orders at the troops whilst taking shots of his own with the bolt pistol in his hand. Snapping out of their shock, the squad turned and opened fire at the Night Lords.

The Night Lords retaliated by throwing themselves at the fearful guardsmen, brandishing their lightning claws. The first Imperial soldier to fall from the Night Lords was a screaming lad, newly promoted from whiteshield to guardsman, frantically firing his lasgun at the advancing Astartes. His screams increased in volume as a Chaos Raptor impaled him with lightning claws before forcefully splitting him in half. A Chaos Marine falls from an attack from behind. Another turns to see an Ogryn lumbering towards the marine squad with a heavy bolter in its arms. Due to the smaller space, the Ogryn's shots had a higher chance of hitting something. This is evident from the explosion of a Night Lord's head and of an unlucky guardswoman's stomach. However, an Ogryn was no match for a Space Marine, Chaos or Loyalist, as it took a few well placed shots from a bolt pistol to down the stubborn abhuman.

As the massacre occurred within the bunker, other Night Lords Marines have followed suit and have conducted assaults on the other bunkers. Some were disposed of due to the presence of melta or plasma weaponry while most were successful in the eradication of a bunker's inhabitants.

The carnage that was occurring within the walls was not unnoticed by either side. One of the Night Lords squads hung a flayed corpse of an Imperial Guardsman outside a bunker, riling up the invaders and making them continue their assault with newfound gusto. Furthermore, some of the vox communicators were hijacked by the Marines. Certain frequencies broadcasted the guardsmen and womens' screams of agony and the gleeful laughter of their torturers.

The only thing in the path of Chaos victory were the Bastion of Steel's heavy armour, artillery, and the remaining guardsmen inside bunkers. With the Imperials, multiple vox messages were sent out, warning of the presence of Night Lords Raptors killing men in the bunkers. Men inside unaffected bunkers scrambled to find any form of weaponry that could give them a chance against Chaos Marines. Colonel Fontane and his squad heard the message and made haste to aid the troopers.

Behind him were squads of legendary Imperial Soldiers.

Behind Colonel Fontane were squads of Kasrkins.

With the aid of genetic modifications, the Kasrkins sprinted past the command squad to aid in the hunt for Chaos Marines. One of the squads entered one of the wall's lower bunkers directly to the left of the gaping hole in the wall. The mere presence of the Kasrkin brought out hopeful smiles to the fearful troopers. One of the smaller members of the Kasrkin squad stepped forward and addressed the squad.

" **Brothers and sisters of Cadia, if I may ask, where are the treacherous Night Lords?** " The owner of the voice was undoubtedly female and fairly young.

 **"They are on the third level. Can we come along? I wanna see those pieces of shite burn in holy fire.** " A guardsman responded, brandishing his flamer. One can immediately feel the arrogance waving off of him.

" **No. You must stay here and prevent the traitors from coming any closer to the wall. Your mission just as important as ours for we do this for Cadia.** " Another Kasrkin replied as politely as he could, his lack of a helmet indicates his rank as sergeant. Although, the sergeant was a little irritated at the Guardsman's bravado. He had been tempted to smack him around and make him reconsider on what he was exactly going to face. Thankfully, a moment of eye contact with the other sergeant made him forget about it as he knew that the lad will get a mouthful and more from his sergeant.

" **Understood sir.** " The ground shakes, and explosions can be heard outside. One of the troopers peers out of the firing ports before raising his lasgun and began firing.

" **They're coming! The Russes are being overrun!** " The other troopers manned their posts with haste as the Kasrkin left the bunker to ascend to the Night Lords' location. As they went up the steps, the Kasrkin could hear the Guardsmen's sergeant bark into a vox communicator requesting for an immediate bombardment by the Basilisks on their location. Shortly after, the telltale whistling of artillery rounds could be heard and the ground shook as the shells exploded outside. The squad moved on, unfazed by the noise or by the vibrations.

" **Brothers and Sisters of Cadia, huh? Has a nice ring to it, don't you think Krissa?** " One of the Kasrkin teased the female speaker.

" **Shut up Gav!** " The newly identified Krissa snapped back at the man, smacking him at the back of the head. The others snickered, but were shut up by Krissa turning around at glared at them. Though they couldn't see her eyes due to the visor, but they had this feeling that she was glaring Astartes-sized combat knives at them. This woman was one of the scariest things they had faced, and that's saying something considering their background.

" **Alright, settle down.** " The low voice of their sergeant ceased their bickering. " **Now is not the time to kid around. We are Kasrkin, stalwart defenders of the Kasrs of Cadia, not imbecilic and spoiled children. So get your act together and keep moving, the reputation of every Kasrkin is going to get tarnished if you keep this up and Cadia's chances of survival would plummet because of the lot of you. Especially you Krissa, now is not the time to be emotional. Be steel; unyielding, unforgiving and unrelenting.** " The sergeant then pushed past his subordinates and carried on in the dark corridors. The others wordlessly shouldered their weapons and followed along.

" **Aye Sergeant Acrius.** " One of them mumbled as he shifted the melta gun in his hands.

" **Sorry dad.** " Krissa mumbled as the squad passed by.

* * *

On the other side of the wall, the Forces of Chaos received an unknown factor that would give them an edge over their opponents. In a burst of psychic energy, a Sorcerer of the Word Bearers appeared within the heavy forest, scaring cultists and Traitor Guard troopers that were operating artillery.

" **My Lord,** " One of the cultists ran to the Chaos Astartes and bowed down. " **Thank you for gracing us with your presence. The lapdogs of the Corpse-Emperor are defending that damnable wall with everything they have, but with you by our side they will fall!** " His short tirade got him hoisted into the air by the Sorcerer, whose visor gave the cultist the chills.

" **You talk too much.** " The sorcerer spat out before making the man's head blow up with Warp energy. " **The rest of you better start shelling those loyalist dogs or with the Gods as my witness, I will annihilate every single one of you.** " He growled at the staring cultists, revelling at the frantic noises that they made as he walked to the frontlines.

* * *

Acrius held a closed fist up, prompting the squad to stop in their tracks. With slow and silent hand signals, he notified the squad of an enemy presence not too far ahead. Before any of them could respond to his command, a voice reverberated in the darkness.

" **Pitiful dogs.** " The Kasrkin turned and opened fire at the possible source of the voice, which was right in front of them. With a high-pitched whine, one of the Kasrkin fired his plasma gun and watched as the bright blue ball made contact with a large silhouette at the end of the corridor. To their horror, the silhouette was illuminated and had shown that it was an upright corpse of an ogryn with a guardsman crucified to its chest. After the corpse had disintegrated, one of the Night Lords appeared at the end of the corridor, staring at the Kasrkin as if he was mocking them for their incompetence.

Before the Kasrkin could unleash another barrage of hellgun lasbolts, melta-beams, and plasma shots, the Night Lord in front of them let out an inhuman scream amplified by his vox speakers. The sheer volume of the sound caused some of their ears to bleed and for Acrius to throw up. When the auditory onslaught ended, two Night Lords Astartes appeared from the ceiling, hiding with the aid of psychically created shadows, and dropped down behind the Kasrkin.

In an instant, four of the ten man squad fell by the hands of the Astartes. As the rest struggled to recover, the Night Lord in front of them charged with another bout of inhuman screaming. Although he was dazed, Acrius managed to roll under the charging giant and fire a couple of hellgun lasbolts at the back of the Chaos Astartes. After witnessing the brutal death of their comrades at such a close proximity, Gav and the plasma gunner fired at the two Astartes behind them. The other Kasrkin around them were still rebounding from the nausea that came with the screaming. Unbeknownst to the them, the other Night Lord was still running full speed behind them.

Sharp and searing pain tore through their abdomen, and upon investigation, they saw that they had been impaled by the claws of the Night Lord. With weakening limbs, Gav latched onto a pin attached to a frag grenade. He took a quick glance at his squadmate and saw that he was also in the same predicament. With a whispered prayer to the God-Emperor, he pulled the pin and waited for the world to go black.

In a resounding explosion, the Night Lords were blown back with the exception of Gav's killer. He had been obliterated by the explosive power of four frag grenades and two krak grenades. Thankfully, the traitor's massive bulk had shielded the remaining survivors from the worst of the explosion, although they were still blown away by the explosion. The explosion, unfortunately, had created a large gaping hole on the wall that exposed both sides. With the creation of said hole, the traitors opened fire at the exposed Kasrkin while others made haste to find a way to climb it.

Acrius dragged his daughter closer to the bunker while the other Kasrkin, a large man by the name of Jaegus, carried another dazed member of the destroyed squad. Shouts from the traitors on the ground indicated that they had lost interest in trying to kill them and had opted to scaling the wall. The sergeant and his other companion laid down their comrades as gently as they could before aiming their weapons at the last known location of the Night Lords. Sure enough, the Night Lords were where they were previously seen, their red lenses glaring at the Kasrkin as smoke wafted from their armour. New holes of varying sizes littered their armour, one of them took out a lightning claw that had managed to impale his shoulder. Without hesitation, the two conscious Kasrkin opened fire.

Meanwhile, the sound of gunfire cleared the heads of the other two somewhat. Krissa shakily got to her feet and saw that her father and another squad member were shooting at the remaining NIght Lords. She became worried when she saw them jump towards her squadmates, with claws at the ready. Raising her hellgun, she too opened fire at the traitors. One of them was shot in the head, courtesy of Acrius, and fell to the ground with a very satisfying crunch. The other only roared as he continued his charge, uncaring of the injuries that he was sustaining by the hellguns at the Kasrkin's disposal. She heard the telltale jingling of bolt rounds being loaded and turned around to see her other squadmate finish up his set up of a heavy bolter.

" **DUCK!** " She hollered at her other squadmates. Hearing the franticness of her voice, Acrius and Jaegus dropped to their bellies, revelling at the sound of the baritone noise that the heavy bolter was known to make. The Night Lord was peppered by high-speed large calibre bolts and when the gunner ceased fire, the headless Astartes fell to the ground.

" **Everyone alright?** " Acrius asked the remains of his squad. He was answered with three 'ayes'. Nodding, he activated his vox communicator and spoke into the encrypted frequency that the Kasrkins used. " **This is Safeguard Red, my squad has dispatched of three traitor marines located near Bunker W3-19, requesting reinforcements as there are only four of us left, how copy?** "

After a few seconds of waiting, a voice rose from the static. "S **afeguard Red, this is Safeguard Omega, reinforcements unavailable. Safeguards Gold and Black have not responded to our calls, while Safeguard Blue and White are currently pinned by traitors that have breached the wall near Bunker E2-27 and W1-05 respectively. You're going to have to work with what you have, over.** "

" **Damn,** " Acrius muttered. He turned to his troops and spoke impassively, " **We won't be getting reinforcements soon, the others are either dead or pinned down.** " The squad remained unmoving, any feeling of remorse or sorrow was forcefully purged from their minds for the better of the mission. " **So we've got a choice, either we hold this position and pick off traitors over at the ground, or we keep hunting with only the four of us with no back up.** "

" **I say we keep hunting Sarge. Those bastards have to learn what happens when they step foot on Cadia.** " Jaegus stated, no doubt angry from the death of a close friend in the squad.

" **I second that.** " Krissa spoke up, causing her father to look at her with a raised eyebrow. " **Gav might have been a total ass to me at times, but he was a true soldier and a good friend. I am not going to just let those good for nothing lowlifes walk away from the Hammer of the Imperium.** " Cadmus, the heavy bolter gunner, made eye contact with the sergeant. Maintaining eye contact with his superior, Cadmus nodded his head before standing up to reposition himself beside Krissa. Due to an accident during his childhood, the poor lad could not speak. His inability to speak had caused some confusion and issues when he was initially placed in Safeguard Red. The issue was resolved through learning sign language, and sometimes just instinctive understanding.

Acrius chuckled at his squad's like-mindedness before speaking into his vox headset once more. " **Safeguard Omega, this is Safeguard Red. Thanks for the sitrep, notify Safeguard White that we'll be coming to help, over.** "

" **Acknowledged, Safeguard Red. Watch your six, stay frosty, and happy heretic hunting.** " The radio operator of Safeguard Omega responded before the line went dead.

" **Squad, carry out protocol 105-C before we move out to help the others. Jaegus, take Yalnir's melta, he won't be needing it anymore.** " The troops went to the corpses of their comrades, muttering prayers to the souls of the fallen Kasrkin for them to bask in the Emperor's holy light for eternity. After the task was accomplished, they collected their dogtags and shed all of the fallen's equipment. The remains of Safeguard Red stacked bloodied armour and weapons before throwing a timed melta bomb at the pile to ensure that archenemy will not get their hands on the equipment.

* * *

When Safeguard Red arrived at Safeguard White's position, the remains of Safeguard White were holed up in an adjacent bunker. Traitors had managed to set up a heavy stubber at the corridor and were laying down sustained fire at the bunker's entrance. Whenever they had to reload, the other traitors moved up and opened fire at the Kasrkin that popped out of cover to shoot the enemy. Members of a corrupted Imperial Guard Regiment had foregone defending their rear flank in favour of shedding blood for Chaos. Their lust for blood proved to be their downfall as Safeguard Red appeared from behind them, hellguns and a meltagun decimating the bodies of the traitors.

One of the traitors turned around to investigate the cries of his comrades, only to intercept a stream of molten slag to his face, melting it along with the rest of his body. The silence of the heavy stubber prompted Safeguard White to engage the traitors once again. With Safeguard Red to their rear and Safeguard White engaging them from the front, the remaining traitors were killed with precise and efficient hellgun fire. In a span of 13 seconds, Safeguard White had been liberated from their prolonged firefight by Safeguard Red.

" **Thanks for the save Safeguard Red, but we had it covered.** " One of the Kasrkin of Safeguard White spoke to Acrius.

" **Whatever you say.** " Acrius said, uncaring of the man's comment. " **Where's your squad sergeant?** "

" **Sergeant Tylern? He's dead. Stubber round ricochet off of the wall and nailed him right in the forehead. Bloody shame, he was the last of the previous generation of Safeguard White Kasrkin.** " To prove his point, the men of Safeguard White ushered Sergeant Acrius inside of the bunker so that he could see the bisected head of Safeguard White's Sergeant. After looking at the mass of bone and brain matter long enough to have it engraved into memory, Acrius looked around and saw that Safeguard White still had seven Kasrkin in the squad.

" **Your squad is still pretty healthy. Are you going to continue hunting?** "

" **Of course sergeant. We'll stop only if the colonel tells us to or if we perish with our guns blazing.** "

" **Alright, stay safe trooper. There are still Night Lords Astartes lurking amongst the shadows of this wall. Keep your guard up and if you feel like someone's watching you, try shooting at the ceiling.** "

" **Sir! There are Astartes approaching from the East wall!** " Safeguard White's radio operator piped up from his vox communicator. The room's occupants huddled around him, wary of the information.

" **Are they friendly?** " Acrius asked. The operator relayed the sergeant's question to the operator on the other end.

" **Sergeant, they're Black Templars.** " The radio operator answered the sergeant with awe evident in his voice. " **They're pushing back the traitors. A column of Rhinos are headed for the west wall. ETA three minutes.** " Cheers erupted in the bunker.

" **I'll be damned. Operator, broadcast this to the troops.** " Acrius ordered the man before grabbing onto his own vox communicator and dialed to the encrypted frequency of Safeguard Squads. " **Safeguard Omega, this is Safeguard Red. Safeguard White's safe and secure here, minimal casualties. Have you received intel regarding the incoming backup?** "

" **Affirmative Safeguard Red, we have received intel about the Black Templars.** " Safeguard Omega's radio operator paused for a moment. " **Seems that Safeguard White's broadcasting the intel, it should give us a fighting edge. New orders from Colonel-Commander Fontane, this is top priority. Take Safeguard White with you and form up with the men at these coordinates. We're mounting a counter-attack now that we've got heavier firepower on our side.** " Acrius' auspex flared, the location of the men's meeting place was marked onto the built-in map. " **Let's move out men.** "

* * *

" **I can't believe it, Black Templars are coming to help us out.** " A guardsman muttered, awe evident in his voice.

" **You better, because that means a frakking long firefight awaits us.** " His friend, the gunner of the Leman Russ Executioner's Plasma Cannon, drily commented. News of the arrival of Astartes were received with varied reactions. Many were thrilled, but some were wary as the arrival of Astartes means either a longer firefight or the Space Marines taking credit for their hard work. Either scenario sucked for guardsmen. The gunner took a long puff from his Iho-stick, his apprehension was starting to become unbearable.

" **Hear hear.** " Another guardsman piped up, his facial scars betraying the mischievous grin on his face. Then he locked eyes with the Commissar, who was listening to the conversation with a scowl on his face. Before any of them could say anything, the commissar held his hand up, demanding silence.

" **I do not care of your opinions about the arrival of the Emperor's sons, but know this, once any of you start slackening in your firing, I will not hesitate to shoot you. I refuse to let this regiment's reputation be tarnished by a bunch of spineless cowards fleeing in front of Space Marines. Am I understood?** " The Commissar glared at the men, who respond noiselessly with nods of their heads. Once he was satisfied, he moved away to spread the same message with the others.

" **Damn, guy's scarier than a Carnifex. And I've seen a Carnifex!** " The tank gunner muttered to his friends once the Commissar was out of hearing range. Then he noticed figures running towards their location. He squinted and saw that they were Kasrkin, the ones who were assigned to help them out during the counter-offensive.

" **They're here.** " The man with the scars said, staring at the group of eleven as they made their way to the Lieutenant's location. They watched as the Kasrkin saluted the Lieutenant before the sergeant conversed with the woman. After a few moments of speaking, the Kasrkin saluted her again before making their way to the Leman Russ. As the Kasrkin got closer, the Guardsmen got a better look at them. The ones with red visors had some gouges on their armour as well as holes that could have been from shrapnel. The Kasrkins with the white visors were splattered in blood, whether from their own comrades' or from traitors they could not tell.

" **Who's the commander of this vehicle?** " The Kasrkin sergeant asked them. The gunner didn't respond, he just snuffed out his Iho-stick before banging at the tank with his helmet.

" **Oi! Jax! Someone's here to see you!** " Grumbling and cussing could be heard from inside the tank, and before long, a grubby man popped out of the tank's commander hatch.

" **What the hell Darus! I was trying to fix something in there!** " Jax glared at his subordinate for a moment until he noticed the presence of the Kasrkin. " **Aw hell. Hello there, you're the ones who are helping us out right?** "

" **Affirmative. You know your orders Tanker Jax?** " Acrius' face remained impassive, but underneath he was a little annoyed at the tanker's attitude as well as the overbearing stench of grease that permeated from the man.

" **Of course sergeant. Lag behind and let my boys shoot stuff while the infantry and Kasrkin advance with the Space Marines.** " The tank commander responded with a grin on his face, proud of himself to be able to remember a command. Acrius nodded and motioned for the rest of the Kasrkin to prepare near the gate.

* * *

With the Rhino convoy, the Black Templars muttered prayers to the Emperor, uncaring of the gunfight that was occurring.

" **ETA one minute.** " The driver announced just as their prayers finished. The Astartes checked their weapons and scanned their armour for any anomalies. One of the Marines stood up, accessories on his armour indicated that he was a Sword Brother.

" **My brothers, there has been reports of a flux of psychic activity within the forests, near the traitor's artillery. I do not know what it means, but I would suspect that the archenemy has summoned something or someone of great power from the Warp. Stay vigilant and if you spot the summoned being, eliminate it with extreme prejudice.** "

" **Affirmative Sword Brother,** " The Space Marines responded in unison. And then, they felt the sensation of their vehicle slowing down.

" **We're here. The Emperor protects.** "

* * *

The arrival of the Black Templars was nothing short of divine intervention to the Imperial Guard. The sight of black Rhinos adorned with the crosses of the Black Templars and purity seals marked with the language of the Adeptus Mechanicus was awe-inspiring. However, it was nothing compared to the occupants of the vehicle. With three loud thuds, the Rhinos' back door opened and out of those doors emerged the Crusaders of Dorn. With metallic thuds that reverberated throughout the battlefield, the armour clad giants ran out of the Rhinos and laid down fire at the traitors.

Their tabards fluttered whenever a stray round barely missed them and their armour lit up from the bright flashes of their bolters. A few of them ran towards the traitors to intercept Khornate Berzerkers with chainswords in hand and litanies of hate spewing from their vox speakers. Meanwhile, the forces of the 75th Cadian Regiment stared at the spectacle in amazement, that is until Acrius and the Lieutenant brought them out of their reverie.

" **CHARGE!** " Acrius yelled at the gathered troops before running out with the Kasrkin.

" **CRUSH THEM WITH STEEL!** " The Lieutenant responded back, opting her troops to do the same before they all ran out the gate with the Leman Russ Executioner following closely. " **Sergeant Tulio, rain hellfire on these coordinates!** " The Lieutenant commanded the CO of the Basilisk column through her vox communicator.

" **Roger that Lieutenant.** "

* * *

' _Ah, more of the Corpse's lapdogs have come to delay the inevitable._ ' The Chaos Sorcerer thought to himself as he watched the arrival of the Black Templars through the eyes of a Traitor Guardsman. ' _I should make an entrance now._ ' With that, he withdrew from the Traitor Guardsman's mind before preparing to teleport into the battle.

* * *

Screams permeated through the night, whether from traitors or from loyalists. Mangled bodies of both parties were littered across the field. Some loyalist troops were screaming their lungs out from the pain of being dismembered by Traitor mortars, heavy bolters, or Basilisk shells. Some of them had to be silenced with a lasbolt to the head as their injuries were too severe for any form of recovery. The ones who received less severe injuries were rushed to a triage centre.

As they killed off the last of the traitors, the scent of ozone assaulted their olfactory senses. In the air, a sigil of Chaos Undivided appeared. Many had to avert their eyes and cover their ears as prayers to the accursed Gods of Chaos were echoing in the night, overpowering the screams of pain and the gunfire. The troops that failed to guard their senses spasmed wildly and began to bleed from the eyes and the ears. They had to be put down, else Chaos corrupted their souls. Then, in a flash and a bang, a figure appeared where the sigil of Chaos was levitating. It was the Chaos Sorcerer.

" **This planet will fall to Chaos. Your efforts are futile as they will not stop the inevitable.** " The sorcerer taunted.

" **DIE CHAOS SCUM!** " One of the Black Templars roared as they ran towards him. Underneath his helmet, the sorcerer smiled at the Loyalists' denial. Gathering power into his hand, he summoned lighting and had electrocuted at least two of the Templars and heavily injured a third. Another Templar attempted to attack him from the side, his chainsword already cutting the air in a downwards motion. The sorcerer coated his staff-arm in Warp Energy and raised it to block the chainsword. Before the Templar could retaliate, the sorcerer ended his life by making his head explode from within the helmet.

Suddenly, sharp pain seared on the back of his right thigh. He turned around to face the source and saw Cadmus glaring at the sorcerer defiantly. As if a switch had been flipped, the guardsmen opened fire at the sorcerer, forcing him to erect a psychic shield from the lasbolts, bolts, and plasma fire from both the Leman Russ Executioner and the hand-held plasma guns.

" **I have had enough of this!** " The sorcerer exclaimed. He suddenly rose up a few feet in the air and began chanting. As he recited his lines, bolts of lightning erupted from a psychic dome surrounding him, vaporizing any guardsman nearby. One stray lightning bolt managed to hit the Leman Russ on the front hull, disabling the heavy bolter and killing the man that operated it.

" **FOR CHAOS**!" The sorcerer shouted before he crashed to the ground, creating a shockwave of Warp Energy that knocked the surrounding loyalists off of their feet. As the sorcerer rose up, a portal to the Immaterium had opened behind him and daemons of Chaos poured out. A bloodletter pounced onto Cadmus and impaled him with its sword before biting a chunk of his head off. A lot of the guardsmen turned to conduct a 'tactical retreat' once they saw the creatures of the warp pour out of the portal. Some of them were shot by the Commissar, who was screaming obscenities at the daemons.

The Templars were faring much better than the guardsmen. Any daemon that dared to come close to them were either cut to pieces or blasted apart by the heavy bolter that one of them carried. They tried to kill the sorcerer, but the daemons had created a defensive circle around him to ensure that he remains alive so that the portal would remain open. Meanwhile, the Kasrkin were doing their best to lessen the daemons numbers. The death of Cadmus had been especially hard for Safeguard Red, but they kept their emotions in check as they calmly took headshot after headshot at the daemons. Safeguard White's numbers were slowly whittling away as they were fairly close to the portal, so they were receiving a sizable amount of daemons.

The Leman Russ Executioner was also doing a good job of whittling away the daemons. In fact, it was focusing fire at the living barrier that the daemons had erected around the sorcerer. " **Jax, the Plasma Cannon's starting to overheat! If we keep firing at this pace, we'll explode!** " Darus exclaimed, watching as the heat indicator of the plasma cannon slowly approached the red bar.

" **Shut the hell up and keep firing! Do you think that I'm stupid? I know what I'm doing.** " Jax glared at Darus, before popping out of the command hatch to man the heavy stubber.

" **JAX IT'S GOING RED!** " Darus screamed at his commander. To his surprise, Jax grinned wildly and pulled out his heirloom sabre.

" **DRIVE ME CLOSER! I WISH TO HIT THEM WITH MY SWORD!** " Darus looked at him as if he had gone mad, but the driver seemed to understand his intentions as the Leman Russ began to accelerate towards the portal. Then it dawned on Darus, Jax wanted the cannon to overheat so that it would explode and shower the daemons in plasma soup.

' _Cunning bastard_.' Darus smiled at his commander. " **It's been an honour serving with you sir.** " Jax smiled back down at him, bracing himself for a rather painful death as he can hear the telltale whine of the plasma cannon beginning to explode.

" **Likewise with this entire crew.** " Jax and Darus made the sign of the aquila before Jax turned on the vox speakers. " **FOR CADIA**!" Darus fired the cannon once last time before the tank exploded in a plume of blue.

The force of the explosion knocked many of the daemons away. Those that were in close proximity were vaporised by the plasma soup. The sorcerer still stood, his visor glaring at them. However, he did not see the Sword Brother of the Black Templars sneak up from behind him.

" **DEATH TO YOUR FALSE GODS!** " The sorcerer swivelled and barely dodged a power sword from cutting him in half. However, he wasn't fast enough to prevent it from cutting his staff-arm off.

" **You impudent insect!** " The sorcerer spat out as he crused the Sword Brother with Warp Energy. Then, his other arm was engulfed in searing pain. The force of the dismemberment caused him to face his attacker. It was Jaegus, his melta gun smoking. The Kasrkin's head blew up from the psychic power of the sorcerer.

" **Anyone else?!** " The sorcerer challenged the assembled loyalists. He heard a noise from below him and lowered his head to investigate. As soon as he had done that, he found himself staring at the barrel of a hellgun.

" **Screw off!** " Krissa snarled at the sorcerer before firing. The lasbolt penetrated the heretic's helmet and punctured the man's head. However, the angle which she shot from prevented the lasbolt from either blowing up his brain or severing his head. Rather, the lasbolt had caused a bit of his neck to explode, but the sorcerer's spine remained undamaged. Nevertheless, the sudden sensation getting a chunk of his neck blown off caused the sorcerer to stumble backwards. As he backpedaled closer to the portal, Krissa and Acrius ran and tackled him. Although an Astartes weighed a tonne, the sorcerer's lack of balance and proper footing made it slightly easier for the remainder of Safeguard Red to tackle him through the portal.

However, due to the speed they were travelling in, Krissa and her father were also dragged into the closing Warp Portal.

* * *

Krissa gasped as she sat upright. Travelling through the warp outside the safety of a ship was a very disturbing experience. She could still feel the hands wander her body and grab her limbs. Patting her body, she was relieved to discover that nothing was missing or had been altered.

' _Where am I?_ ' The Kasrkin thought. Her surroundings reminded her of her Cadian home, where bright green trees littered the landscape. Unlike her Cadian home, this forest was vibrant with life. She could hear animals scurrying around and making noises. Usually noise unnerved her, but in this place it seemed natural.

She was brought out her thoughts by a coughing and a weak whisper. " **Krissa.** " She faced the source of the noise.

Her heart stopped for a moment.

" **DAD!** "

* * *

 **Hello, this is AmICrazy with a new Xover fic. This one features RWBY and WH40K, both are universes that I have recently discovered. Although, I am slowly becoming a huge 40k nerd and RWBY is slowly getting to me.**

 **Anyways leave a review if you can, constructive criticism is welcome. Any flames will be donated to the Salamanders.**


	2. First Encounters

**A/N: I don't own the RWBY or the Warhammer 40K Universe. If I did, then a lot of mishaps would have happened years ago.**

* * *

Words: "Words"

Thoughts: ' _Thoughts'_

Yelling: " **YELLING"**

High Gothic: " **Speaking"**

* * *

Zachariah Acrius was a man of respect. He respected others as much as they respected him, and a lot of men respected the grizzled sergeant. It was hard not to, especially if said sergeant had fought in and survived 2 Ork Waagh!s, multiple Chaos incursions, and a Tyranid hive invasion in quick succession. The scars on his face and the cold, dead look in his eyes during a firefight would attest to his experience. However, all the respect that men had for him could not help him as he bled whilst sitting against a tree.

' _Damn that sorcerer._ ' He bitterly thought to himself. His arm was dismembered by a creature from the warp and a lucky swing from a daemon's sword created a deep wound on his abdomen when he and his daughter tackled the heretic into the warp portal. All in all, he knew that he would not survive. Suddenly his daughter sat up from her position from the ground and for a moment, she was confused as to where she was before she saw what was around her. As she took in her surroundings, Acrius became wistful at seeing his only daughter relish being in the presence of life that was not overtly violent. A violent coughing fit tore through his body.

"Krissa." He croaked out, his strength rapidly fading. She turned around and he could feel her sorrow from where he sat.

" **DAD!** " The last uninjured member of Safeguard Red ran towards him. She swiftly slid beside him, inspecting his wounds. "What happened?"

"Daemons." Acrius grunted out. His wounds flared, causing him to wince a bit.

"Hold on Dad, I'll look for an Imperial outpost." Krissa began, refusing to believe that her father is at death's door.

"Krissa…" Acrius spoke wearily.

"They'll fix you up, just like they fixed me." She continued.

"Krissa." Acrius raised his voice a little bit, attempting to get her attention.

"Don't worry dad, they'll fix you. They'll have to. They have to fix you up." Krissa began to ramble, her denial causing her to think irrationally.

"Krissa!" Her sergeant exclaimed with what strength he had, successfully gaining her attention. "Krissa, you know as well as I that I am not going to survive."

"No dad, you're going to make it. It's only us now, mom and Emile are dead and Carter is missing. We have to stick together."

"I know that Krissa. I know that." He clasped onto a pendant of the aquila, a gift from his wife on their wedding day. "But Chaos does not care whether or not we are the last of our family or not. Don't worry, my soul shall be with the Emperor."

"I can't Dad." Krissa's throat tightened, her eyes beginning to burn.

"You have to keep going Krissa. For me, for your mother and your siblings. You have to keep living." He unclasped the pendant as well as his dogtags. "The pendant was your mother's, keep it to remind you that we are watching from the God-Emperor's light."

"I will." Her hands grasped onto his outstretched hand, gently squeezing it.

"Where's my sword?" He asked hastily, attempting to find his final gift to her before his time passed. Acrius heard his daughter unclasp it from his belt and presented the sheathed weapon to him. He smiled at her and pushed the weapon back, much to her surprise. "It's yours now. You are the last Kasrkin of Safeguard Red. The responsibility of reviving the squad rests on your shoulders, Sergeant Krissa Acrius." She nodded stiffly at the revelation of her new position in the Imperial Guard's hierarchy before attaching the power sabre to her own belt.

"Krissa, my dearest daughter, would you do your father one final request? Would you take off your helmet so that I may see your beautiful face one last time." A small smile was on his face, but in his eyes Krissa could see that was he scared of leaving her. Nodding softly, she took off her grey helmet with a hiss as the respirator was disconnected. Krissa Acrius would have been considered a natural beauty in Cadia. Short hair with the colour of a heartwarming flame barely reaching the back of her neck framed a young face with elegant angles. Her right eye was a dark purple, a common colour for a Cadian, and had a glint of a burning will behind them. However, her left eye was a bionic with a blazing red lens and had an ugly vertical scar going through it, a parting gift from her first encounter with a hormagaunt. A small nose resting above supple lips completed her near perfect face.

He reached up to her face and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb against the scar on her face, successfully staining it. He chuckled weakly again, muttering "A spitting image of your mother." before he drew his final breath and felt the ice-cold hands of death wrap around his body for a moment before a warmth engulfed his soul and carried it away.

* * *

Krissa shed a few tears as she felt her father's hand go limp. The pain of losing the last known survivor of your family hit her with so much force that she knelt on her current spot for nearly 3 minutes before she snapped out of her reverie. She donned her helmet once again and with robotic movements honed through the constant participation of procedure 105-C, Krissa removed her father's equipment from his body and laid to the side. Then, she fished out an entrenching tool from her rucksack and proceeded to dig a hole for both the equipment and for his body. After an hour of laborious digging, she had created a sizable hole for her father and a smaller one for the equipment. For the equipment, she collected her father's hellgun power packs before priming a krak grenade so that it would blow up everything in the hole.

For the grave, she attempted to place his body in the hole in a more dignified manner than what was usually done as 105-C is sometimes conducted after a firefight. When she had accomplished the task, Krissa positioned her father's hand over his heart to make a crude half-aquila, before hoisting herself out of the hole to cover it up once again with dirt. Once it was finished, Krissa noted the tree with her father's bloodstains and approached it whilst drawing her combat knife. With careful movements, she was able to write a simple message on the bark. "Here lies a man, whose faith was as steadfast as his sense of duty."

"May you celebrate in the Emperor's Light." She said to her father's grave. Making the sign of the aquila, she turned around and walked into the dense forest, her gun raised to fight off any threat.

* * *

Ozpin stared at the cameras that littered his scroll. He was not amused at the initial conflicts between Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee. There was something about the two that just made them argue all the time. Maybe it was the age difference. Whatever it was, it needed to be resolved soon or else their partnership would jeopardize everyone else's safety. He also watched as Jaune Arc created a torch so that he and Pyrrha Nikos could enter a cave that he claimed was the location of the relics. At the back of his mind, he agreed with Professor Goodwitch's statement about the boy's obvious lack of experience contradicted his documentation's others seemed to be getting along just fine, albeit the opposite personalities of Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna, Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren. However, something was bugging him for quite a while now and had gotten the most of his attention.

Camera 43-D. About an hour ago, the camera had undergone a bout of hard static and connection issues. Once the static resided, he caught a glimpse of a purple portal closing behind two prone figures. One of these figures was missing an arm and had a deep wound on his abdomen. He watched as the second one rose from their slumber and fretted over the wounded figure. For a few minutes they conversed and Ozpin was able to see a glimpse of the second figure's face after they took their helmet off, but the camera's angle prevented him from getting a more detailed view. It was enough to tell him that second person was a woman.

For the past hour, he took glances at the second figure as she dug two holes on the ground. During that time, he wasn't as worried about their allegiance or their mental stability as he let the second figure bury the first. However, when he saw the second figure walk out of the camera's field of view, then he got a little worried.

"Glynda, our guest has left camera 43-D's sight." He heard her weary sigh behind him before she responded.

"What do you think I should do?" She asked, already knowing that he would be sending her out to greet said 'guest'.

"Watch our guest from a distance. If they are a threat to the children, eliminate them. If they aren't, then we may have a chance for diplomacy."

* * *

"Did you feel that?" Pyrrha asked in the total darkness of the cave that she and Jaune currently were exploring.

"Soul-crushing regret?" The young lad asked as he got up from the ground after tripping.

"No, it's warm." They both looked worriedly at each other before they ventured deeper into the cave. They didn't have to walk for long before they came across a glowing orange object.

"That's the relic!" He reached out and tried to get it, but it moved. Multiple attempts were made, but to no avail until Jaune jumped and latched onto the 'relic'. However, as soon as he had done that, Jaune and Pyrrha had realized what had caused the 'relic's' movements.

The 'relic' was the stinger of a Deathstalker.

* * *

Krissa shifted her head, watching for anything out of the ordinary. A shadow that didn't belong, a glint of metal, anything that would indicate the presence of a hostile force. Her walk through the forest was uneventful and she was starting to wonder if there are any forms of human life on this planet as she has only heard the calls of various creatures living in the trees.

So far there were no visible threats, except for that lingering feeling that someone was watching her. Years of honing her instincts told her that whoever was watching her was possibly dangerous. She did not know where they were, but when she found them, they would regret spying on her.

Suddenly, a scream tore through the soft noise of rustling leaves. She looked up and saw a figure fly across the sky. Judging by the flailing limbs and the horrid screaming, it was obvious that it was not on their accord. ' _Was it_ _xeno or human?_ '

Then, the trees in front of her shook violently and loud creaks sounded off not too far from her. Not wanting to get into a fight with a large enemy force, she dove for foliage and laid there. Raising her hellgun, she prepared for a firefight against the creatures of the forest, or worse, creatures of the Warp. To her surprise, she saw another human burst through the bushes. Although this human woman's attire was a little odd, as it consisted of pieces of armour that barely covered anything important as well as accessories such as a circlet on her forehead. In her hands was a spear, causing Krissa to tense at the sight of a weapon.

A moment later, she saw what the woman was running from as an enormous creature tore through the trees that stood in front of Krissa. It looked like an organism called a 'scorpion' from Ancient Terran manuscripts, but the sheer size of it as well as the markings on it's plate armour told her that it was not natural. ' _Daemon._ ' She venomously thought as it snapped its claws at the spartan-esque woman. Fury momentarily flooded her thoughts as she remembered the mutilated bodies of Imperial citizens that were used by heretics and daemons for their disgusting rituals.

Jumping out of her hiding spot, she opened fire at the daemon. Her shots landed true and the daemon screeched in pain. The golden stinger at its tail fell at the lack of anything supporting it or connecting it to the body of the daemon. It swivelled around and faced the source of its pain and saw another human pointing something at it. Screeching loudly to intimidate this human, it was surprised that it did not give out any powerful emotions. It felt a semblance of anger from the human, but that was it.

Krissa stood her ground as the daemon shrieked at her. She also heard the woman call to her, but she could not understand what she had said. Maybe the people on this world spoke in a language that she was not familiar with. It was of little importance as the main threat was in front of her, ready to strike.

"For the Emperor." She growled out before firing at it once more.

* * *

Pyrrha Nikos, four time Minstrel Tournament Champion and the 'Invincible Girl' of Remnant, was running for her life. It was not out of cowardice, but of survival as she knew that it would be suicide to fight a Deathstalker alone. In the back of her mind, she was worried about her new friend Jaune. The young lad may not survive a fall from that speed, especially since his aura was just unlocked.

As she barrelled through a bush in front of her, she noticed a small colour discrepancy at a bush to her left. ' _Grey is not a natural colour in a forest._ ' The toppling of trees behind her made the Spartan ignore the thought and run faster. Then, she heard a flurry of movement from the bush so she altered her path to avoid whatever Grimm decided to ambush her. Instead, she heard cracks reminiscent to sticks being snapped, which were followed by the Deathstalker screeching. Willing to take a risk to see what was going on, Pyrrha turned her head, slowing down a tad as she did.

What she saw surprised her, a lone person dressed in attire that she had never seen before was aiming an unknown weapon at the Grimm without any indication of retreat. The Deathstalker, which was missing it stinger, screeched at such a loud volume that Pyrrha had to cover her ears. "Run! It's too strong for one person." Pyrrha stopped for a moment to warned the figure, but it did not pay any heed to her call.

Straining her ears, she heard the figure mutter something under their breath. Their voice was garbled the the mask on their face, but she could tell that the figure was a female. Surprise coursed through Pyrrha as she saw the source of the cracking noise she heard. It was the weapon on the figure's hands and whenever the figure fired, a bolt of light escaped the weapon and hit the Deathstalker's armour carapace within an instant. Scorch marks littered the Deathstalker's body and pincers as the creature displayed some intelligence by shielding its head with it pincers. When the figure's gun stopped discharging, the giant scorpion lunged at her. She rolled out of the way and ran towards Pyrrha, who began running once more at the sight of the Deathstalker.

* * *

' _Regular strength bolts aren't penetrating its armour! Gotta up the power._ ' Krissa thought to herself as she ran through the forest, the redhead a few paces away from her. She was wary of the individual, not entirely sure if she has been tainted by Chaos. So if her suspicions were true, then Krissa was in a prime position to take out the redhead with a swipe of her father's sword. On the other hand, she needed the redhead to guide her through the forest as she does not want to come into contact with anymore of the daemons that reside in this world without taking out the bigger threat.

They both of them crashed through the brush in front of them and were rewarded with the sight of an open field. At the distance, they saw ruins and a few other individuals gathered there. Krissa sprinted past Pyrrha and was increasing the distance between them before stopping and turning around. The Kasrkin calmly ejected a power pack from her hellgun, placed it in a pouch for future recharging and loaded a new one while cranking the power setting to maximum. Aiming down the sights, she took a slow breath and fired once.

The Imperial Lasgun is a marvelous piece of human technology. Simple, robust and frightfully effective. At normal settings, it is able to dismember a human at close range and cause explosions of flesh at medium ranges due to the almost instantaneous increase in temperature of blood. However, at higher power settings, the lasgun is able to penetrate certain sections of Astartes Power Armour. The hellgun of course, takes this power to another level.

Krissa watched as the lasbolt travelled the distance between her and the daemon in a blink of an eye. She watched as the bolt pierced the armour of the creature and caused the soft sections to explode, showering the ground with black matter. The daemon fell in an instant, dirt being displaced from its abrupt crash into the ground. Krissa hummed in approval of her kill before another shriek reverberated in the air. She looked up and saw another daemon, this time in the shape of an enormous bird. ' _This world suffers from Chaos!_ '

* * *

' _This day is getting very interesting as it goes on._ ' Yang thought to herself. It was suppose to be a regular initiation day for her. Get launched by a catapult, become partners with a monochromatic ninja, and witness your sister fall from the sky only to be intercepted by a flying guy, which turned out to be Vomit Boy. Then said guy tries to rescue your sister's partner, Ice Queen, by catching her in his arms only for them to fall to the ground with his body being a cushion for your sister's partner. Then you see Pumpkin Spice and this weird looking fellow run away from a Deathstalker when said fellow suddenly sprinted ahead of Pumpkin Spice and took out the Deathstalker with one shot from the neat gun of theirs. Now they had to deal with a Nevermore that Ruby had probably pissed off. But then again, what was considered normal?

Yang used Ember Cecilia to launch herself to the highest point of the ruins so that she would be able to hit the Nevermore with the shotgun slugs in her gauntlets. At the corner of her eye, she saw the some of the others had also the same idea and were propelling themselves with the recoil of the weapons to get closer to the massive bird-Grimm. The only ones who stayed behind with the stranger were Vomit Boy, Pumpkin Spice, and the quiet guy who hangs around Nora.

Welp, more fun for her.

* * *

"So what should we do now?" Jaune asked the group as he inched away from the person wearing the futuristic helmet. The little show that their guest did for them unnerved Jaune a bit as he could not believe that no one could be so calm when a huge Grimm was headed towards them.

"Well, I suppose that we could help out as much as we can, but only Pyrrha here has the weapon capable of hitting the Nevermore and our friend's rifle has a limited range. In the end, all we have to do is take cover and let the others kill the Nevermore." The normally quiet Ren spoke up, voicing the thoughts of the Remnant natives. A roar from the forest caught their attention and their eyes widened when they saw a large pack of Beowulves led by an Alpha Beowulf.

"I think you jinxed it Ren." Jaune piped up, earning a 'shut up' from Ren. Then, without warning, the armoured warrior that Pyrrha brought along with her ran across the open field to attack the Beowulf pack. "Hey! Come back!" Jaune yelled at the figure and was going to attempt to at least aid him when Nevermore feathers embedded themselves at the ground in front of them, effectively blocking the most direct path to Pyrrha's guest.

* * *

' _This world needs to be purified! It will not share Cadia's fate!_ ' Krissa thought with conviction as she sprinted towards the mass of daemons gathered at the tree line. She heard the blonde boy scream at her, but like the redhead, she could not understand the language he spoke. She lowered the power setting of the hellgun in her arms as she noticed the smaller amount of bone-like protrusions on these daemons' bodies compared to the scorpion daemon she killed before. Furthermore, she also attached a bayonet at their lack of any ranged capabilities, which she knew they would compensate with relentless melee assaults.

She stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw the daemons run towards her. With careful aim, she landed headshot after headshot at the mass of daemons. One of the daemons lunged at her from the side, but she sidestepped out of the way and shot it before it could pounce at her again. She noticed that the larger daemon stayed behind a bit from its subordinates and briefly wondered if the daemons here operated in a hierarchy similar to that of the Orks. Her train of thought was interrupted by a whistling noise and she turned around just in time to dodge an enormous feather belonging to the raven daemon.

Growling at the feather, Krissa tried to increase her distance from the raven daemon by running further away from it, but the wolf daemons were blocking her path. Swearing under her breath, an action that would have gotten a lecture from her father, she raised her hellgun to fire at the daemons blocking her path, but her weapon was swatted from her hands by a daemon. The same daemon pounced upon her and it took all of her strength to keep it from ripping her head out with its fangs.

With a nearly inaudible whir, she grabbed onto the muzzle of the wolf daemon and slowly began to apply pressure on it, causing the daemon to whimper in pain. Before it could do anything to escape, Krissa jerked the wolf daemon's head towards her, the sheer force of the pull decapitated the daemon. One of the daemons suddenly howled, making Krissa crane her head to the right. She saw the redhead's spear sticking out of the daemon's chest before it was pulled out by its owner. Her colleagues were right behind her, aiding her in the extermination of the daemons.

' _So, this world has some sort of Planetary Defense Force against the daemons. Good_.' The creature atop of her was pushed off by the blonde knight, who held out his hand with worry etched on his face. Since these people have somewhat proven themselves, she relented and latched onto his arm to pull herself up. The boy was speaking to her again in his language, she recognized the language and understood a few words here and there, but she could not remember what his language was called. So she tapped the side of her head and shook it, trying to say that she could not understand him.

Not waiting for his response, Krissa searched for her weapon. She found it underneath a daemon whose skull was crushed by what appears to be a hammer. Turning about she saw the culprit, a young brunette wielding an enormous warhammer, and was shocked to see the pinkish hammer collapse into a grenade launcher. She saw the same phenomenon occur with the redhead's spear as it transformed into a rifle. ' _Interesting_.'

As she picked up her hellgun, she saw the larger daemon return to the shadows of the forest. It was glaring at her with its red eyes, but she was not intimidated by this as she has experienced that exact glare from the heretical Marines of Chaos. Scanning the battlefield, Krissa somewhat relaxed her stance when there was no sign of the daemons returning. The Kasrkin noticed that her 'allies' were being unnaturally quiet and turned to understand why. They seem to be staring at something at the distance, and to sate her curiosity, she followed their line of sight. She turned just in time to see one of the PDFs of the planet decapitate the giant raven daemon with a wicked looking red scythe.

' _Amazing. And these are only children by the looks of it._ ' She frowned behind her respirator. ' _Regardless of their skill, they are still inexperienced and unprepared for a true war. These daemons are not much of a challenge, acting like Tyranids and Orks as they rely on their sheer numbers along with a variety of larger species._ '

A shiver went down her spine and she reacted out of instinct, swivelling around and shouldering her hellgun to eliminate a threat from behind. Rather than seeing a daemon, she saw a woman with blonde hair and green eyes glaring at her.

* * *

"I am Glynda Goodwitch, Professor of Beacon Academy. Who are you and what is your purpose here?" The blonde instructor practically demanded the person that was aiming an advanced looking weapon at her. Several moments of uncomfortable silence hung between the two tense individuals before a nervous Jaune responded.

"Uh, Ms. Goodwitch.. They can't hear you."

"Then take off that blasted helmet!" She exclaimed, prompting the soldier to tense up, the bayonet on their weapon shining menacingly.

* * *

"Glynda, I said watch from a distance. Not agitate them." Ozpin muttered to himself as he watched the conversation.

* * *

The moment the blonde woman screamed, alarms were going off in Krissa's head. She was not certain that the woman was a servant of Chaos, but she was sure that she could be a threat to her safety. Much to her surprise, the blonde boy was meekly trying to reason with the woman, which got him a glare from her. From behind Krissa, she could hear the others jogging towards them to investigate the ruckus. Then, the woman shifted her furious gaze back to Krissa, as if she was inviting her to try something stupid.

So, she was going to take a risk. After listening to the children's conversations intently, she might have an idea on what language they were speaking. Although, should she really use a holy dialect of Gothic to converse with these people? With silent prayers of apology to the God-Emperor, she spoke.

* * *

"I. Sorry… I. Not. Understand. Words." The armoured figure spoke haltingly, raising a few eyebrows.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello my friends! Chapter two is here. Now, as you may have noticed, this story is going to be taking place from Episode 7/8 onwards. The reason behind this mainly because I want the story to progress as I watch the TV Show.**

 **Also, to those who are curious, I will not be placing Krissa in a Killteam consisted of other 40k badasses and I will try to limit the inclusion of other 40k antagonists. The main idea of my story is the underlying thought of 'What would a 40k character do in this scenario?'.**

 **Finally, the language barrier is an aspect that I need you guys to help me on as it is kind of hard to accurately portray someone who is struggling to overcome a language barrier. As for the 'holy dialect of Gothic' that Krissa is speaking, I was thinking of calling it Gothica Primordius or something like that. Thoughts?**

 **Rate and Review please.**


	3. Beacon Academy

**A/N: I don't own the RWBY or the Warhammer 40K Universe. If I did, then a lot of mishaps would have happened years ago.**

* * *

 **Response to a Guest's comment:** Krissa does not know about the beastmen regiments of the past, as she like many other Imperial citizens has been heavily indoctrinated in the Imperial Creed. So, the only knowledge she has of abhumans being a part of an Imperial force are those that she has seen in her Uplifting Primer as well as the ones she has worked with. Furthermore, Krissa does not know that Grimm are natural, so she assumes that they are daemons, that is why I refer to the Grimm as such.

 **I'm not mad or anything, I just want to respond to your comment, but your Guest status makes it impossible to PM a response. Sorry.**

* * *

 **On another note, further research made me realise that the most sacred dialect of Gothic is High Gothic. So, I will stick to the idea that 'English' is a dialect of Gothic that is very closely related to High Gothic, hence its 'holy status'. This brand of gothic will be called 'Holy Terran' as a LordNodrogLock648 suggested.**

* * *

Words: "Words"

Thoughts: ' _Thoughts'_

Yelling: " **YELLING"**

Low Gothic: " **Speaking"**

* * *

"Excuse me?" Glynda asked the warrior in front of her, who was still aiming their weapon at her face. "I did not quite understand what you had just said." She patiently waited for her to respond, so that she may confirm that Remnant's guest is legitimately unable to speak or understand the planet's language fluently. This bit of information would be a major obstacle in creating allegiances with this person. It also brings up another question, what was this person's main language and how were they able to speak in Common? So many unanswered questions and possible scenarios buzzed through the blonde professor's head before the Kasrkin responded.

"I. Not. Understand. You." Glynda sighed in frustration as the staff and maybe some of the student body would have to work overtime to teach the soldier Common before any proper conversation would be made. She contemplated contacting Ozpin and notifying him of this development, but a small blur of red caused her to stumble.

"Ohmygosh! Ohmygosh! Ohmygosh!" Ruby Rose recited a mantra of surprise and awe as she fawned over the stranger. "Your weapon was so cool! It was like _crack_ and then splat! The Deathstalker was dead! It's a laser gun right?! What is the gun made out of? What causes the lasers to go out? Won't the barrel heat up because lasers are hot? May I see it?" As she asked the last question, Ruby reached out to attempt to touch the Kasrkin's hellgun, eliciting a sudden reaction from Krissa as she adjusted her aim from Glynda to Ruby in a split second. Surprised at the soldier's sudden movement, Ruby squeaked and jumped backwards, bumping into Glynda.

"No. Come... Not. Trust." Krissa hissed out, wary of the PDF's actions. Her actions caused a variety of reactions from the Huntsmen and Huntresses. Yang and Glynda glared at the hostile act and prepared their own weapons to attack the figure. Weiss, Pyrrha, Ren and Blake flinched before looking between the two individuals while Nora slapped her hands over her mouth as she let out a gasp moments prior. Jaune was shaking where he stood, but when he saw Yang look at the soldier dangerously, he decided that he must intervene for the sake of his friends. Even if his bladder was telling him to run as fast as possible at the opposite direction.

"Sorry about her." He called out to the soldier, who aimed her weapon at him. This prompted Jaune to raise his arms in a reassuring manner. "She gets very excited with weapons." Jaune lowered an arm and pointed a hand to himself before pointing it to the soldier. "My name is Jaune Arc. You?" When the soldier did not respond to his question, Jaune tried again to get the soldier to introduce themselves by using himself as an example.

"Krissa Acrius." The Kasrkin responded after the third attempt with her distorted voice. Jaune nodded at her while Ruby gave a shy wave at the intimidating figure. Yang seemed to have visibly relaxed, but her eyes were still trained at Krissa.

"Ms. Acrius, if we may, we must return to the Academy where we can converse more freely." Glynda spoke up, making Krissa redirect her weapon towards the older woman. The Imperial noticed that she was scanning her surroundings, looking for anymore of those daemonic creatures that dared attack humans. If she was scared by the aggressiveness of the soldier, Glynda was doing a good job hiding it.

"Schola?" She asked to clarify their destination. Jaune nodded a little hesitantly, as he was kind of worried about a super badass soldier walking on school grounds with them. Sure people might think that it's cool and all, but what if this woman goes ballistic when someone gets too close. He dismissed those thoughts, hoping that Headmaster Ozpin would have a plan of sorts just in case the scenario arises.

* * *

Thankfully, the group's trip back to Beacon was mostly uneventful. The keyword being mostly as they briefly encountered an Ursa, who had its head blown off by a hellgun bolt. Needless to say, seeing the damage of the weapon is capable of dishing out up close made the others ensure that there was a comfortable distance between them and the hellgun.

As they approached Beacon Academy, the students ran for the school's auditorium as Glynda informed them of the team formations taking place in said building. Thankfully, the school grounds were empty so the mad dash for the auditorium was done without any incessant weaving and dodging. Meanwhile, the blonde guided the Kasrkin, who was still very tense at the prospect of being in non-Imperial territory regardless of his escorts being evidently humans, to the teacher's lounge which was surprisingly empty with the only signs of human life being the discarded mugs of coffee on the table.

"Headmaster Ozpin and other staff members won't be arriving for a while, so make yourself comfortable." said Glynda as she walked over to a kettle to boil some water for her tea. While she waited for the water to boil, she watched the soldier from the corner of her eye. The soldier was still standing by the closed door, with their helmet on and their stance suggested that they were still prepared for a fight to break out. Glynda has met a lot of veteran hunters and huntresses as well as members of the Atlesian military, so she was used to behaviour reminiscent to Krissa's. However, the degree of mistrust the stranger had for her and the students was unnerving and quite unusual.

Who are you? The question revolved around her mind. The dangers of an unknown individual wandering Beacon was fairly high, but it must be a lesser evil considering the repercussions of letting this stranger wander the Emerald Forest without supervision. She needed to know who she was and where she came from, but the language barrier would make it difficult. This is why she needed Ozpin as he had an aptitude for these kind of scenarios. The only clues that Glynda had of her guest's identity and background were her attire and her equipment.

She wore angular dark grey armour that covered her chest and certain parts of her legs. She also had pauldrons shielding her shoulder and a small section of her upper arm. Underneath the body armour, she wore fatigues that were a blend of various shades of green. And to top it off, her head was covered by a peculiar dark grey looking helmet that covered her entire face with a glaring red visor reminiscent of the burning eyes of Grimm.

Her armaments were no laughing matter as well. The rifle in her hands was initially laughable as its very simplistic design made it look like it was made by a child. However, seeing that Ursa's head explode with one shot showed her the power of the weapon. The bayonet at the end of the laser rifle easily had a foot long blade and the saw-end of the blade was as menacing as the wielder. Attached to her chestplate was, what Glynda could assume, a pistol-variant of Krissa's laser rifle. On the soldier's right hip was a sabre which she has not seen unsheathed, but she guessed that it wasn't a status symbol. Glynda also noticed the varied grenades that were attached on the soldier's armor; there were three green ones and two red ones. The final piece of interest was a small camera mounted on her shoulder. It was of little significance in regards to the soldier's ever present firepower, but it could hold data and information about who this soldier was and where her loyalties laid. The only clue the professor had of Krissa's allegiance was the two-headed avian emblem on Krissa's chestplate.

"You can relax Miss Acrius." Glynda called out to the soldier, earning her a prolonged gaze. "We don't wish to harm you." Krissa maintained her gaze at Glynda, unmoving and unrelenting. Sighing in frustration, Glynda redirected her attention to the whistling kettle and poured herself a cup of tea before sitting down on one of the chairs surrounding the coffee table. She noticed that the Kasrkin had shifted her stance to accommodate for the change in location. So, rather than stressing out about failed conversations and great misunderstandings that would come, Glynda waited patiently for Ozpin and company to return to the lounge.

* * *

' _Can I trust her_?" The Kasrkin wondered to herself. First impressions were a universally important factor in any confrontations and Krissa's first impression of the older woman was of a person who liked to be in control and despised being withheld from important information.

It reminded her of an inquisitor. The die-hard puritans to be more specific.

That disastrous first encounter made Krissa dislike the woman somewhat. When they walked through the forest, the suspicion that the woman was emanating was incredibly overbearing. Killing that bear-daemon only made the suspicion increase. She paid no heed as she has felt the same sensation once after surviving her first Chaos incursion.

Her mission during that campaign was simple. Act as bodyguards for an inquisitor that has come to aid in their folly against the archenemy. What her father didn't know was that this inquisitor was radicalist that had made use of a daemon weapon against their adversary. Although the blade he held was a useful asset, as Krissa's squad has seen it cut through a bolt of psychic power, the sickening sensations wafting off of the weapon made the squad very wary of the inquisitor's willpower. This inquisitor's arrogance and overconfidence proved to be his downfall as his daemon weapon seduced his mind and made him turn against his fellow Imperials. Thankfully, the blade could not deflect 10 hellbolts at once. When her squad had returned to base with news of the Inquisitor's fall, they had been put under scrutiny for nobody knew if they had been tainted by the same seductive promises that the blade had given the inquisitor. This suspicion has carried on for the entire duration of the campaign, and they were only proved untainted when an Ecclesiarch Priest blessed them with sermons of the pure.

The moment they arrive to the schola, she was a little awed at the beauty of the schola. However, that awe was immediately replaced with disappointment. Paying little attention to the sprinting children, Krissa's sour mood was caused by the lack of any proper defensive emplacements. All her life, she has seen a multitude of buildings and bases armed to the teeth and built to withstand prolonged sieges. However, this schola gave her one hell of a culture shock. There were no sandbags in sight, the buildings did not look reinforced or had any firing ports and there were no security personnel or even automated turrets.

" **Un-frakking-believable.** " She muttered to herself as she made more mental notes about the appalling infrastructure of the schola. Thankfully, her eyes were spared the visual torture when the blonde called her over to another building. After a couple of turns through the corridors, they were situated in a quaint little room. The size of the room made her uneasy, so she scanned her surroundings for any alternate methods of escape besides through the door she just entered and blowing up a hole in the wall with the grenades she had on her person. Krissa hears the blonde lady speak in Holy Terran again, eliciting a disappointed glare from herself as the woman apparently has already disregarded her lack of knowledge in the speaking of this brand of Gothic.

She did not know how long she has been staring at the woman while standing, but judging from the irritated glances that the blonde has been sending her way, Krissa could safely assume that it had been for a long time. So to amuse the blonde somewhat, Krissa removed her rucksack and let it drop to the floor with a thud. Voices emanated from the other side of the door and she could hear footsteps come closer. Thinking quickly, Krissa ran to the other side of the room and toppled over the small table. She knew that the table would provide negligible protection against any form of ranged weaponry, but it eased her somewhat that she had a semblance of protection. With her hellgun's barrel trained at the door, she waited while ignoring the frustrated commands of the blonde instructor.

The knob squeaked, indicating that there was someone on the other side that had heard the commotion and the yelling. It began to turn albeit slowly. Now Krissa could hear a set of muffled voices from the other side speaking in the same language as the blonde. She grimaced underneath her helmet. More people could mean a more threatening force if they were anything like the children. She tightened the grip on her weapon. If they wish to witness the wrath of the Hammer, then they shall have a first-hand experience. And then, something odd happened.

Her weapon glowed a faint purple before it was wrenched out of her hands by an unknown force. Before she could react, her body was flung to the wall and was stuck there. At the corner of her eye, she saw the culprit. The blonde instructor was waving some sort of wand that was emanating the same purplish glow that surrounded her weapon. Said instructor was calling out to the people on the other side of the door.

" **Magic?** " Krissa asked herself, a little confused at the scenario. She ignored the three individuals that had just entered the room and were giving her inquisitive stares. " **Magic.** " She repeated once more whilst raising her voice as she began to grasp the situation. Magic was another term for sorcery. Sorcery came from unsanctioned psykers and the practice of sorcery was an act of heresy. The professor was utilising sorcery, as such she was a -.

" **HERETIC!** " Krissa screamed at the top of her lungs, surprising the people in the room. Her outburst made the blonde lose control for a moment, dropping Krissa a foot lower from her position before pinning her against the wall once more. This did nothing to stop Krissa from reciting out the Prayer of Rescue* as loud as she can.

" _ **Hear, oh Savior of Mankind, my plea for justice; pay heed to my cry; Listen to my prayer spoken without guile.**_

 _ **From you let my vindication come; your eyes see what is right.**_

 _ **You have tested my faith, searched it in the night.**_

 _ **You have tried me by fire, but find no malice in me.**_

 _ **My mouth has not transgressed as humans often do. As your words have instructed me, I have kept the way of the law.**_

 _ **My steps have kept to your paths; my feet have not faltered.**_

 _ **I call upon you; O God of Mankind. Turn your gaze to me; hear my prayer.**_

 _ **Show your wondrous power, you who deliver with your right arm those who seek refuge from their foes.**_

 _ **Keep me as the favored servant; hide me in the shadow of your throne from the violence of the wicked.**_

 _ **My ravenous enemies press upon me; they close their hearts, they fill their mouths with lies.**_

 _ **Their steps even now encircle me; they watch closely, keeping low to the ground,**_

 _ **Like vermin eager for prey, like rats lurking in ambush.**_

 _ **Rise, O Emperor, confront and cast them down; rescue me so from the wicked.**_

 _ **Slay them with your sword; with your hand, slay them; snatch them from their world in their prime.**_

 _ **Their bellies are being filled with your servants; their children are satisfied too, for they share what is left with their foul kin.**_

 _ **You are the God-Emperor, Savior of Mankind you protect those who serve you**_

 _ **Who disdains the wicked, but honors those who fear the Emperor;**_

 _ **Who keeps an oath despite the cost, accepts no bribe or treachery against the innocent and the loyal servants of mankind.**_

 _ **Whoever acts like this shall never be shaken.**_

 _ **Whoever acts like this shall be blessed in the Emperor eyes.**_ "

As soon as her prayer ended, one of the people in the room stepped forth and stared into Krissa's visor. A man clad in green with silver hair and dark spectacles, his eyes shined with veiled curiosity. Then she felt a faint tug in her mind. After spending time with the Ecclesiarchy Priest that had cleared her name, she learned what to look out for when someone was utilising psychics to probe into your mind so that they may implant heretical thoughts. This tugging sensation was a sign of psychic probing. " **GET OUT OF MY HEAD, YOU FILTHY HERETIC!** "

She tried to lash out at the sorcerer in front of her, but the witch's spell held her in place. If anything, it looked like she was writhing in pain. The tugging sensation increased in strength, making her panic. Fighting against the witch's spell with all her might, Krissa moved her arm until her index finger was wrapped around pin of one of the frag grenades clipped to her armour. She heard the sorcerer shout a command at the witch before she felt her helmet and respirator remove themselves from her head. Glaring at the witch, she tried to lift her hand so that the pin would be pulled, but she was lowered to the ground before feeling two hands frame her face. The firm grasp the sorcerer had on her made diverting her vision away from his olive eyes.

Then, strength of the tugging became so powerful that she saw brief flashes of her memories, especially those of her family and the wars that she had taken part in. Fury engulfed any rational thought and she felt her face contort into an animalistic snarl. As quick as a flash, she headbutted the sorcerer, relishing at the crack that accompanied the maneuver. Her assailant reeled backwards, clutching a split lip with one hand and removing his cracked spectacles with another.

However, before she could pull the pin, a portly man with grey hair tackled her and wrapped her in a death grip. She hears him speak to her in a soothing voice, but she saw in his exposed eyes that he was angered by her attack on her friend. Another set of hands groped her abdomen before one tried to unclasp her finger and another wrapped around the grenade. Sensing their intent, Krissa clenched her hand tighter and squirmed against the powerful death grip. Knowing that they couldn't unravel her finger without breaking it, the other hand removed itself from her finger and resumed groping for something else on her abdomen.

Then she heard the telltale click of a grenade's pin being pulled. To her surprise, she saw that the owner of the second set of hands was holding onto the grenade as if it were his lifeline. It also showed that he somehow knew how frag grenades worked, contrary to what his attire and build would suggest. Growling at his captors, she faced the grey-haired heretic again before she repeated the same maneuver she used at the sorcerer. Relentlessly headbutting him.

Once again, these heretics surprised her as they did not show any signs of physical damage. If anything the only damage being dealt was to herself as she got a massive headache from headbutting the man as well as a bleeding forehead if the warm liquid trickling down her face was a sign. The man suddenly tossed her into the air. Before he got the chance to catch her, she punched him in the face. As he stumbled at the force of the punch, she cast her gaze at the witch, who looked exhausted for some reason. Krissa tried to sprint towards the woman, but a blur of green intercepted her head on. They landed on the ground, with the attacker atop of her. She felt weight on her biceps and discovered that her attacker, the silver-haired sorcerer, was resting his knees on her arms. She struggled, but to no avail.

Feeling his firm hands grasp the sides of her face to force her to look into his eyes once more, she shook them away while screaming curses at the man. The firm hold turned into a desperate grip of great strength and she could do nothing as she stared into the sorcerer's eyes.

"Sleep." She heard him say in the Holy Language of Terra. And for some reason, she felt very weary. Gritting her teeth, Krissa slid her left arm out from underneath the sorcerer's knee and grabbed onto his arm. With a whir, she squeezed his arm with as much force as she could muster. His cry of pain and instinctive reaction of grabbing the source of said pain was the opening Krissa needed to push off the sorcerer. Still clutching his arm with enough force to crush a cultist's head, she raised her unoccupied arm and delivered a flurry of devastating punches to his unprotected face. Her blood was beginning to get into her eye, so she hastily wiped it away before resuming her onslaught.

He made a vain attempt to protect his head, but it only left his torso exposed to the powerful blows of the Kasrkin. At the corner of her eye, she saw the mustached man come from behind her. When he was about to grab her again, she threw an elbow backwards, hitting his gut and making him double over. As the sorcerer was regaining his bearings, Krissa grabbed onto his belt and lifted him up in a display of strength before throwing him at the mustached man. Then she made eye contact with the witch, who was still recuperating from whatever heretical spell that she had used onto one of the Emperor's servants. In a fluid motion, she unholstered her laspistol and zeroed in on the witch's head.

The death that she was going to grant the blonde was interrupted by a green haired bespectacled man, the same one who took one of her grenades, who swatted her pistol away before he ran off to the other side of the room. Growling lowly at him, she attempted to pull another grenade pin, but to her surprise the grenades were not on her person. Anger began to consume her as the memories of the blood rituals bombarded her conscience. These heretics were sick bastards that deserved slow deaths for they worshipped gods that took everything from her. Everything, except for her life.

A million scenarios went through her mind in an instant. Would they torture her before leaving her to die? The same way the ones at Yolrund had done to the factory workers. Would they outright kill her to sate whatever appetite their gods worshipped? Would they corrupt her? As they have done to many brothers and sisters in arms during her time as a member of the Imperial Guard?

No.

She would not give them the opportunity. She will die by her own hands, by her own terms. But not without shedding heretic blood.

Grasping her father's sword, she drew it and clicked on the rune which activated the blade. A soft blue glow enveloped the blade. As she stared down the witch, her right hand made its way to her boot, where another knife awaited to shed blood for the Imperium. With her right hand holding the knife in a reverse grip and her left holding her father's sword, she attacked. The witch attempted to stop the offense with more of her heretical spells, but Krissa dove to dodge them. When she got back up, she slashed at the witch, who was within arms reach.

The witch cartwheeled away from the blade as it made a sizable laceration on a section of the wall where she once stood. As Krissa turned around, she barely was able to raise her weapon to block an incoming strike from the sorcerer. Confusion was plastered across Krissa's face as she stared at the weapon. It looked like a simple cane, but it had a silhouette of a white sword surround it. She tried to overpower him, but the slim man that she had thrown moments ago was matching her strength. There was no doubt that in her mind that his strength was a product of his sorcery.

In an attempt to break the lock, Krissa swiped at the man's torso with the knife. Only for the hand to be swatted away by the sorcerer with speeds that she could not comprehend. Then, she felt a force apply itself onto her abdomen before turning into a sharp pain as she was launched from her position. Ignoring the surge of pain that tore through her torso, she scrambled back to her feet. Her opponent had a visage of utter calmness, somewhat irritating her but she did not want to show it. However, she knew that this man was very dangerous. The vibes that he was giving off was making klaxons go off in her head. His companions too were giving off similar vibes, not as powerful as his however. It puzzled her as to how she was able to survive for this long.

Then it hit her. They were holding back.

 _The frakking bastards were toying with her!_

She looked around and saw that the sorcerer's companions, bar the man holding onto her grenade, were surrounding her. She knew that she was outmatched and if they captured her, who knows what sick things they will do. "So be it." She spoke out, and stood up straight, catching the other inhabitants of the room off guard. Krissa let go of her knife and deactivated her sword. When the sorcerer relaxed, she raised the blade to her neck and cut into her jugular.

The pain was brief and sharp, but she bit her lip so that she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing her screams. As she fell the the ground, her blood staining her armour and uniform, Krissa made a grave mistake. She made eye contact with the sorcerer.

For the first time in years, she felt fear as the man looked deep into her eyes. He looked worried for her as he ran towards her prone figure, but she knew better. It was false, to provide her comfort before subjecting her to pain. She tried to fight the weariness, but in the end her body's desire for rest overcame her iron will as her vision faded to black.

* * *

"Get a medic!" Ozpin yelled at the professors as he dashed towards the heavily bleeding soldier. Shedding his jacket, the headmaster of Beacon knelt beside the dying woman and wrapped his jacket around her wound. Behind him, he could hear Goodwitch's frantic requests for the medical crew of Beacon to arrive posthaste. He spied Port approaching to help him, but his attention was diverted by Oobleck's request of assistance in locating the pin of the grenade that the green-haired bespectacled professor held with white knuckles and shaking arms. Port looked conflicted between aiding Ozpin with the woman or Oobleck with the grenade. A curt nod from Ozpin signified that he should help his friend.

"Don't die on me." Ozpin muttered as he felt his jacket become wet from the blood it was absorbing. Clicking heels approached Ozpin and a moment later, Glynda was kneeling beside him, bandages and a roll of gauze in hand. She tugged at his arm and he responded by quickly removing his jacket. As soon as his arms were out of the way, Glynda placed the roll of gauze on the wound before wrapping it with the bandages with practiced precision. The instant she finished conducting first-aid on their wounded guest, Port announced his discovery of the grenade pin with the jovial tone that the inhabitants of Beacon have been accustomed to hear.

"Why isn't her aura sealing the wound?" Glynda asked herself as she kept applying pressure onto the gauze. Then her eyes landed on Krissa's bleeding forehead, prompting her to request Ozpin to treat it.

"I don't think she has aura." The silver haired headmaster responded after he wrapped his jacket around her forehead. Before long, members of beacon's medical staff rushed into the lounge with a stretcher to collect Krissa. As the paramedics placed her body onto the stretcher, Ozpin approached one of them, who stayed behind to tend to any wounds that the professors have sustained that were not sealed by aura.

"Will she make it?" Ozpin asked the man. The paramedic was silent for a while, staring at the puddle of Krissa's blood.

"If they make it to an operating table on time, perhaps." He responded, never taking his eyes off of the puddle. Ozpin sighed as he too became entranced at the puddle. In all of his years as a hunter, there were very few times where he saw something that surprised him. The stranger was an anomaly that surprised him every step of the way. Her arrival, her aid of the children, then her fury.

He frowned. What was the cause of her unholy fervor?. He contemplated asking Glynda, but she too must as confused as he. So the only way that they could truly understand the source of her violent reaction was to ask her. But there were many obstacles to face. The biggest obstacle was the language barrier. Then they had to regain her trust and make her comfortable enough to talk to them. Between the two, the latter is going to be nigh impossible if she holds a very mean grudge.

"Ozpin." A hand resting on his shoulder brought him out of his trance. It was Port, his uncovered eyes practically shone with concern. "My friend, what ails you?"

' _Always wearing his heart on a sleeve._ ' Ozpin nearly chuckled at the thought. "It's nothing Peter, just thinking about our guest." The light in Port's eyes dwindled a bit.

"Headmaster, while I trust you with my life, are you certain that it is a good thing to keep her alive? She poses a great threat to our students." The normally jovial man spoke in a tone laced with ice and venom. Ozpin raised an eyebrow at the change in demeanor.

"I agree with Peter. She is too dangerous to be kept around. Send her to a penitentiary, let the law enforcers deal with her." Glynda added onto Port's statement as she eyed her bloodied blouse distastefully. Beacon's headmaster locked eyes with his executive, and was surprised to see an emotion that she had tried so hard to quell throughout the hardships of her career as a Huntress.

Fear.

It had been years since Ozpin has seen that emotion flare so prevalently in her eyes. The last time he saw fear in her eyes was on her first year as a teacher in Beacon, when first-year Team GLCR (Glacier) returned from an assignment without their leader. Her fear-addled mind refused to accept the fact that their leader had been killed and nearly attacked the students when they told her the truth. Giselle, the leader of GLCR and Glynda's youngest sister, was killed by a crazed veteran of the Atlesian military**.

Her fear soon turned into rage as she set off to find the man who killed her dear sister. Knowledge that he was detained under the plea of insanity did nothing to quell her lust for vengeance. So in the dead of the night, she snuck into the man's cell. What she saw would haunt her for the rest of her life. The claim of insanity was justified as he acted like an animal in his cell. The man was curled up at the corner of the cell, pawing at the wall with bloodied hands as his nails were ripped off. His eyes were wild, darting to and from the room as if he was scared of something appearing out of nowhere.

When his eyes landed on her shadowed form, the fear suddenly turned into manic fury. He attacked her, screaming about Grimm coming for his soul. There was no fluidity, no grace in his punches, but behind each blow was intent to kill. Somehow, the look on the stranger's eyes reminded Glynda of the insane man. As she too had this look of manic, yet desperate, fury as she tried to kill them all. Then there was the knowledge of her lack of aura. Ozpin's forearm was numb and the pain on his face was excruciating. Peter was whining about a massive headache. Although her blows couldn't leave a noticeable mark, the sheer force from her punches amazed Ozpin. If she could deal this much damage without aura, imagine what her capabilities would be if she had it.

Her strict and rather apathetic demeanor was the product of her grief and self-loathing from her sister's death. To see that degree of fear affect her almost made Ozpin reconsider his decision. Almost. A voice at the back of his head was telling him to learn who the mysterious woman was, for they may become an invaluable asset. Especially with Qrow's news about the Queen's latest courses of action.

"What about you, Bartholomew?" 3 pairs of eyes locked onto the form of Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck, who at the moment was reading a book that he had fished out of the Kasrkin's rucksack.

"Most perturbatory." They heard him mutter as a frown grew on his face. Then he opened up another book, identical to the other that he held moments ago. The frown grew deeper after the first page. Suddenly, he slammed the book shut and gathered the two books along with a third one. Standing up, he stomped towards the door to make an exit, but he was stopped a firm hand resting on his shoulder. He turned around, scowl still present on his face, to meet the eyes of his concerned co-workers. "What?"

The annoyance that coated his tone made them flinch. "Bartholomew, are you alright?" Peter asked his close friend.

"Why do you ask?" Some of the annoyed tone seeped away and was replaced by genuine confusion.

"You just snapped at Peter, and you have been wearing a scowl on your face ever since you read that book." Ozpin decided to be blunt, as precious time was being wasted. Oobleck sighed deeply and slouched.

"Sorry. It's just… I may have learned something new about our guest." His statement piqued the interest of the others. "She has been indoctrinated in a society completely different from our own."

"What makes you say that?" Glynda queried. Rather than responding, Oobleck opened one of the books to the page that he had been reading. He handed it to the others, and they were intrigued by what had been written.

" _Burn the Heretic. Kill the Mutant. Purge the Unclean._ "

* * *

 ***- The Prayer of Rescue was discovered on this site:** **http:. ..40konline. index..php.?topic.=179750.0** **Credit is due where it is warranted.**

**I do not mean to offend anyone who is of relations to a veteran that is suffering from PTSD. In fact, I have the utmost respect for any individual donning a uniform to serve their country.

* * *

 **A/N: Well that escalated fairly violently. So yeah, I hope that the 'fight scene' was somewhat accurate as I tried to take Aura into consideration. There will be more people vs people fight scenes in the following chapters, and those would be a somewhat fairer fight as Krissa would have access to her goodies.**

 **On another note, if you guys think that the changes in perspective are confusing, then I shall try to change it so that it may seem less confusing. It was mainly an attempt to get you guys to see things through a Cadian's perspective.**

 **Thanks for the comments guys, it means a lot to me and if you give me tips and ideas this story could go on for a long while AND improve in quality. Although this is nothing like the masterpieces of other authors, the praises I get make it feel as such. If you guys want a certain scenario to play out, just PM me and we can discuss it. That also extends to any questions regarding the fic.**

 **Onto the next chapter… But don't forget to R &R!**

 **Edit: Changed fight scene and the professors' interactions on 06/04/2017**


	4. Dreams and Revelations

**A/N: I don't own the RWBY or the Warhammer 40K Universe. If I did, then a lot of mishaps would have happened years ago.**

 _++ M41.985 ++_

 _++ Kaleon Region, Helzin-Secundus ++_

" **For the Emperor!"** A commissar screamed from the hatch of a Leman Russ as the armour envoy sped across the rocky terrain of Helzin-Secundus. At the spearhead of the assault were Leman Russ tanks with their main cannons unleashing unforgiving volleys at the fortifications of the archenemy. Their opponents replied with bright blue beams of lascannons cutting through the plasteel hull and with krak missile launchers that decimated the crew of a punctured tank with shrapnel. Despite the losses, the Imperial tanks pressed on as they strived to cleanse one of the last strongholds of Chaos on the planet. Exterminatus had been considered, but Lord General Grennel Kaius of the 75th Cadian Armoured Regiment was adamant that they would be the ones to rid the planet of the heretics that reside within. The man was confident that the soldiers that he led would be able to do the job, no matter the cost. As no amount of deaths is too high in order to preserve the Imperium.

The Lord General's troops met his expectations throughout the war, which would be known as the Cleansing of Helzin-II.

Behind the Leman Russes, a battalion of Chimeras crawled at a slower pace to protect the cargo that they had. Inside of one of the Chimeras was Krissa Acrius, Guardswoman of the 75th, and she was fearing for her life. Sweaty hands grasped onto the lasgun like a babe grasping its mother.

" **You're the daughter of Eileen Acrius, right?** " Her head snapped upwards to meet the owner of the baritone voice, a bearded man with kind eyes. She nodded hesitantly, unsure of her own voice's strength. An explosion resounded outside, shaking the Chimera and causing her to grasp onto her weapon much tighter. The man chuckled at the sight, his bright eyes a sharp contrast from his dirty face and the grungy gear that he wore. " **I knew your mother, and I can tell you she was one of the most incredible guardswoman I have ever met. A little reckless, but it added to her character. There is no doubt that you will be a fine guardswoman as well, perhaps you might even be like your father. So put up your war face, and always remember that whatever we have to face, we face in the name and memory of our loved ones.** " The man's kind words eased Krissa's nerves.

" **Hear that sis?** " She felt someone shove her from the left, earning a displeased grunt from the man to her right. " **You're going to be a** _ **hot-shot**_ **someday if you're anything like mother!** " Groans could be heard throughout the Chimera.

" **You're a horrible comedian Emile!** " A guardsman near the back door of the Chimera hollered, earning chuckles and approving nods from the troopers present.

" **Shut the frakk up Veras!** " The newly identified Emile retorted. As soon as those words left his mouth, the fist of his neighbour made contact with the back of his helmet.

" **Language.** " The nervous facade of Krissa Acrius was replaced by glaring eyes and a spiteful scowl. Emile Acrius, Krissa's older brother by a few years, met her gaze with defiance in his eyes.

" **Krissa, I'm a frakking guardsman of the Emperor. I can frakking swear whenever I frakking want.** " His defiant demeanor was soon replaced by one of pain as his sister's fist met his face. Quiet laughter reverberated in the Chimera's hull due to Emile's misfortune. Even the man that Krissa had spoken to chuckled softly at Emile, as he needed someone to stop his incessant swearing.

It's not like he abhorred profanity, but the young guardsman swore at least once in every sentence he spoke. It was getting really annoying. He tried ordering him to stop, as he was the squad sergeant, but the habit had been so deeply ingrained into him that it became somewhat of a lost cause. He also couldn't bear reporting him to a commissar, since he was good friends with Emile's father. Hell, they were like brothers, but lived on different sides of the planet.

" **You were saying?** " A raised eyebrow accompanied the condescending tone that Krissa used.

" **I sincerely apologize for the use of profane language.** " Emile's monotonous voice responded, as if he were reciting a memorized line. A smug grin adorned her face as a newfound burst of confidence welled inside of her. For a moment, she forgot about the conflict around her.

And then it ended with a stray autocannon shell dislodging the Chimera's treads, forcing the APC to halt.

" **Tracks are shot off! Everyone get out!** " The driver exclaimed through the vox communicator built into the Chimera. The back door lowered and the squad ran outside for they feared that a lascannon would tear through the Chimera and kill them all in one fell swoop. As soon as she left the Chimera, Krissa contemplated on whether or not it was a good idea to leave the armoured vehicle. They were essentially target practice now for the heretics.

" **What the hell are we supposed to do now Hayles?** " Emile yelled at their squad sergeant.

" **I don't know, we're stuck here.** " Hayles responded, as he took pot shots at the heretics. A few brave men tried to make a valiant charge towards the enemy, but they were mowed down the moment they left the safety of the Chimera. Krissa risked a quick peek around the armoured hull of the Chimera, and saw a blue ball as luminescent as the planet's sun headed their direction.

" **RUN**!" She screamed and ran away from the Chimera. Others got the hint and followed her. The ones who stayed were soon vaporized from the intense heat that the plasma ball gave off as soon as it made contact with the Chimera. However, their survival from the plasma brought another challenge. Surviving enemy fire in open ground. Although she was the one who ran first, Krissa was quickly passed by a few guardsmen. Unfortunately for them, they intercepted stubber rounds that were meant for her.

Her lungs were burning like mad and she could feel warm tears cascading down her cheeks. This was real war was like. Fear permeated throughout your entire soul as you watch comrades die in front of you. The miasma of death and decay seemed to follow your every footstep and you didn't know which footstep would become your last. The parades and the videos shown at home made war look glorious.

As she ran, she prayed for the Emperor to safeguard her and her brother. More men screamed in agony as they were shot down. Her foot hit a small rock that had been jutting out from the ground, causing her to lose balance and fall over. The force of the impact made her let go of her lasgun. She tried to crawl towards it, but the ground in front of her got peppered by stubber rounds. Krissa could've sworn that she heard some laughing, but it wasn't jovial, the laughter was cruel and demeaning. The bullets increased in volume around her, some strays luckily ricocheted off of her helmet. A few managed to graze her shoulders and her legs, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins made the pain bearable. However, she did not stop crawling towards her rifle for she feared the wrath of the commissars more than she feared death.

Once her hand grasped onto the lasgun, she shouldered it and returned fire from her prone position. She heard footsteps behind her and turned around to find out who or what it was. Her eyes widened when she met the cold, unforgiving gaze of Commissar Vernis as he loomed above her with his bolt pistol at the ready.

" **Get up.** " He growled out.

" **But sir, they're shoo-** " Krissa tried put some reason into the commissar's daft order.

" **Get up now or I will shoot you for insubordination and cowardice!** " He yelled at her, ignoring a lasbolt that flew right past his left ear. Fear consumed her once more at his presence, but she had the mind to follow his orders. So she stood up, but kept on firing at the traitor barricade. " **Now push forwards, the Emperor protects.** "

' _I'm gonna die because of this guy_.' She lamented as bolts began to fly in her general direction. Nevertheless, she obeyed him and ran towards the closest Chimera in her field of vision. Fate seemed to be against her as a stubber round hit her on the shin, causing her to tumble and scream in pain. The force of her impact against the ground paled at the burning she felt at her lower leg. Desperation had set in as she tried to crawl out of the Chimeras' warpaths on her hands and knees, but it only served to agitate the injury. Her inexperienced mind coaxed her into standing up so that she may move somewhat faster, only for her to get shot on the shoulder.

The force that the stubber round exerted upon her was enough to make her fall on her back, dazed and under shock. It had been a miracle that none of the Chimeras had run her over at that moment or that no additional lasbolts and stubber rounds landed near her. In her dazed state, she failed to notice a figure approach her. Her shaky breaths and pounding heart overpowered the sound of hard leather scraping against gravel. When she felt arms grab her, she began to flay her arms about in an attempt to hit whoever had grabbed her.

" **Krissa, it's me!** " The voice of her brother calmed her down, but because of her wild movements, her shoulder wound flared up and bled even more. A whimper escaped her lips and drew the attention of her brother. So he helped her stand to a semi-upright position before crouching down to position her body over his shoulder so that he may carry her.*

With her body secured on his shoulders, he made his way to a Chimera's burning husk. He set her down once they were safely covered by it and dressed her wounds with a field kit. " **Can you still fight?** " Emile asked.

" **I don't know. My leg hurts a lot and my right arm's kinda numb.** "

" **But can you still shoot your lasgun?** " She responded by shouldering her lasgun and aiming at an imaginary opponent. With a nod, he carried her again to leave their momentary sanctuary so that they may get closer to the frontlines. Taking cover behind destroyed Chimeras in between sprints was the safest way Emile could do to bring her to a medic. However, with the severity of the fighting, Emile was forced to increase the time intervals in between mad dashes towards Chimera corpses. By the time he got to an area where a fair amount of Chimeras were hugging the wall, it was already pitch black with explosions, lasbolts, muzzle flashes and high powered flashlights belonging to search beacons illuminating the darkness.

Emile approached one of the Combat Medics and gave them Krissa. " **Take good care of her, she's my sister.** " He told the medic, who nodded solemnly. Giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, just as their father had done, Emile left her with the medic to make way to the frontlines. Before he could leave, the medic grabbed him to run a quick inspection for any injuries. Once he was satisfied, the medic shoved Emile to the ground and uttered one word. " **Rest.** "

As soon as Emile began to rant about true guardsmen not needing rest in the fires of war, the medic wordlessly began his work. Removing her bandages, he took a closer look at her injuries then reached into his satchel to brandish a needle and some thread. A few stitches, some medical salve, and a new layer of bandages was added over the wounds. A sling and a crude cane were also provided for her. " **You were lucky, if the round hit your leg about an inch to the left, you would've been dead by now. You will still be able to fight, but you're going to have to spend some time recovering. About a few months. When the fighting dies down a bit, I'll call for transportation back to the FOB**.** " She nodded at the medic's advice as he moved her to an undamaged section of the wall where other wounded combatants resided.

True to his word, the medevac arrived to gather the wounded once the heretics were forced further inward to the centre of their base. Unfortunately, it had taken a few weeks for the fighting to subside to a degree so that it would be safe enough to transport the wounded. However, within those few weeks, rumors had been circulating about the heretics summoning a daemon. The rumors had gotten so bad that the commissars have threatened to shoot anyone who dared to utter a word regarding said rumor. Krissa took those rumors with a hint of skepticism, as her father once told her that rumors were always warped truths. The sickly magenta shade that the sky had gained was an indication that the heretics were up to something.

When the Chimeras arrived Krissa was loaded into the vehicle along with the wounded. Although, she was loaded onto the last Chimera as some troopers were in greater need of medical attention. As she entered the Chimera, she looked behind her to see if anyone was missing. Satisfied that she was the last to enter, Krissa sat down near the Chimera's back door and closed her eyes. She was only given, what felt like, a few minutes of rest before an explosion overpowered the guttural noise of a Chimera's engine. A few more explosions were heard and some of the injured manned the multilasers of the Chimera to deal with the cause.

" **Daemon!** " One of the multilaser gunners yelled out. One word was all it took for mass panic to erupt within the Chimera. The Chimera suddenly jerked backwards and was swerving left and right. The gunners were still firing upon the daemon, but the others were screaming at the drivers to drive faster or let them out. One of the injured was a member of an Inquisitor's retinue and was relaying their present coordinates to his squadmates along with the warning of the daemon's presence.

Meanwhile, the driver of Krissa's Chimera was panicking. The unholy sight of the daemon made him forget all his training in an overwhelming surge of fear. His panicked state of mind was soon put to rest when warp lightning fried his body. Before his brain was fried by the warp lightning, the driver had pulled the switch for the back door to give his injured comrades a chance to escape. Even though he knew that they were not likely to survive this massacre. Hope is what the driver could give them as a final gift.

As soon as the back door opened, Krissa and the troops closest to the door scrambled out. In the hysteria, she was pushed to the ground with some troops stepping over her. From within the vehicle, she could hear the desperate screams of the immobile injured, begging her to help them. Survival instincts took over any sense of camaraderie as she turned around and hobbled away. Tears fell from her eyes as she gained distance between her and the doomed Chimera.

" **I'm sorry**." Then her world erupted in searing heat and noise. She felt an unseen force throw her forwards and into the ground. As she laid on the ground, she took a peek over her shoulder to learn of the fate of the injured. The Chimera was all but a burning husk of metal at that moment. More tears trailed down her cheeks at the numbing guilt she felt from leaving those people behind.

Slowly getting to her feet amidst the pain, her eyes widened when a figure emerged from the flames that had engulfed the armoured vehicle. It's eyes glowed white and there was an unholy aura surrounding it. Its feet was floating about 6 inches above the ground and lightning danced across its fingertips. However, the most horrifying characteristic this creature had was that it bore the face of her dear brother. It smiled at her, showing pearly whites that her brother once took pride in.

" **Hello Krissa.** "

Krissa shot up from the bed, greedily gasping in lungfuls of air. Her hair stuck to her sweaty forehead and wild eyes darted across the white room the she now resided in. She felt something tight around her throat and tried to investigate. Her investigation was cut short by shock as she discovered that she was stripped of most of her belongings. The boltgun grey carapace armour and the top of her OD green BDU that she had been accustomed to were not her person. In their place was an odd article of clothing that reminded her of a poncho. Her pants and combat boots were still on, something that she was thankful for, but the armour that protected the front of her legs were gone as well. A glint of metal showed that her two bionic hands were now visible to anyone, much to her chagrin. The memory of how she got the bionics flashed before her eyes, causing her to scowl and clench her hands into fists.

A peculiar beeping caught her attention and she discovered the source of said beeping noise. It was a vid-slate of sorts that was repeating a video of a line fluctuating upwards and downwards. She raised an eyebrow at the video, and then she noticed the wires that were attached between her and the vid-slate. Her curiosity got the best of her, so she tore off the wires to see what would happen. Imagine her surprise when the contraption emitted an obnoxious continuous beep. Even when she returned the wires to their original position, the noise persisted. So in the end, she did what she was accustomed to doing when dealing with an unknown. Applying brute force.

When Beacon's medical staff arrive to investigate the flat line, they were greeted with the sight of their former half-dead patient mauling the remnants of the heart rate monitor. One of them had the unfortunate mistake to let out a giggle at the scenario. The noise caused Krissa to swivel from her original task of demolishing the strange machine and glare at the gathered people. The doctor at the front tried to greet her with a disarming smile and a handshake, but was introduced to Krissa's bionic fist. As the doctor flew backwards and into the crowd, Krissa tackled one of the nurses. A woman faunus with fox ears. The poor woman was subjected to a powerful pressure around her neck and was forced to stare at Krissa's baleful human eye while trying to escape.

" **Die mutant.** " The Kasrkin growled out as she increased the force of her grip around the mutant's throat.

" **Stop**." A voice spoke in Low Gothic, surprising her. She looked up to see who had spoken, but immediately scowled when she saw the band of four heretics standing in front of her with the bespectacled green haired man holding onto a book at the lead. A growl was her reply to the man's command. Underneath her, the nurse was losing strength and her weakening movements were causing the party to tense up.

Good.

" **Please."** The man pleaded, but she dared not give in. Rather, she would make them suffer for harboring unsanctioned mutants and psykers. A psyker indirectly killed her father and Emile. A mutant born of Chaos was the cause of her mother's death. Damn them all.

Pain erupted from the side of her head. After the pain came a brief glimpse of darkness. The darkness quickly resided and light flooded her vision. As soon as she regained consciousness, she rolled to the side to escape the heretics that had closed the distance. Unfortunately, she was subjected to the sorcery of the blonde heretic once again as she felt an unseen force lift her into the air. She felt a brief prick on her thigh and saw one of the medicae remove a syringe from her thigh.

Moments after the medicae's application of the syringe, Krissa felt drowsy. She shook her head to fight off the drowsiness, hoping that the implants that she received from her induction as one of the Kasrkin would fight off the foreign chemicals that are circulating in her bloodstream. A plethora of shocked and confused looks caused her to smirk at the heretics' reaction to her resistance to the sleeping agent.

"Why isn't she knocked out?!" Port exclaimed at the nurse who administered the drug.

"I don't know, the dosage was just right for a person her size! The lot of you told me to bring something along just in case she becomes hostile." The nurse snapped back. They paid no heed to Ozpin and Oobleck who were quietly conversing with each other at the implications of Krissa's resistance.

"Well then, up the dosage!" Glynda responded, irate from the demeaning smirk that the woman was giving her. The nurse nodded and began to fish the unconscious doctor's pockets for the bottle of sedatives. A minute later, Krissa was unconscious and strapped to a bed.

"How long do these sedatives last?" Ozpin asked worriedly as he watched the unharmed nurses bound the soldier's arms and legs with leather straps.

"About twenty to thirty minutes." The nurse absentmindedly responded as he applied an ice pack upon the faunus' neck. The fox-woman jump at the cold sensation on her neck. "You okay Merigold?"

The faunus didn't respond, her eyes were distant and puffy, and her hands were shaking violently. Sensing that she was at the verge of a break down, the nurse lowered the icepack and hugged the trembling woman. Never in their lives would they expect a patient try to kill them. Usually, they were greeted with adorable looks of grogginess accompanied by quiet thank yous. Rather, they were greeted with the furious visage of a human unafraid to kill. It shook them to the core, but their fear was nothing compared to Nurse Delilah Merigold's.

All her life she lived under the racist regime of humans. Whether it was subtle or blatant, she could feel the hate that radiated around certain humans. She had considered joining the White Fang, or worse, cutting off her 'unnatural' ears, but her strong-willed mother always set her mind straight. Rather than give into hate, she chose a more giving lifestyle. Hence the career in medicine. Human or faunus, their lives were in her hands and she would be damned if she let her hate compromise the life of a mother, father, brother or sister. In her lifetime, she thought she had seen all forms of hate, all the faces of anger.

Merigold was proven wrong as soon as she had gazed into the dark purple eye of her would-be murderer. There was an unholy fervor in the singular eye. An inferno of pure hatred and anger that can only be kindled through reaffirmation of past beliefs. A blaze that is achieved through years of negative emotions flowing through your mind. The source of her fear was not facing the inferno. Her fear was the knowledge that she too could have gained the same blaze of hate in her soul.

Then she recalled what she had seen when this woman was brought in with her jugular cut. The gurney that they used to bring her in had a trail of blood following it. Due to the severity of the wound, they had to work fast to treat her. Taking off her armour had wasted precious time, but it had to be done to ensure an easier time sealing the wound. The doctors thanked Oum that it was fastened with straps rather than some complicated mechanism that she had seen in the movies.

Right after they opened up her uniform, they hesitated. Underneath the armour and the uniform was a plethora of poorly healed scars. Her right shoulder and a good portion of her upper right arm had the malformed skin of burn scars. Her torso was littered with bullet wounds, lacerations, and stab wounds. Each marked with their own ugly scar. Each laceration and stab wound was evidently done with a dull or poorly maintained blade. Each bullet wound had burn marks at the edges and were of varying sizes. However, the worst one they saw was a long cut at the centre of her torso from the bottom of her collarbone to the top of her hipbone. Unlike the other injuries, it appeared to have been made with mechanical precision, as a machine was used to open up her torso and make her innards spill out. Furthermore, the lack of any imperfections to the long wound indicated that this was received willingly.

After the disgust wore off and the others finished their regurgitation of their previous meals, they went to work. The procedure was done quickly and efficiently, with the wound properly sealed and disinfected in under an hour. One of the staff opted to remove the top of her uniform while another worked on removing her gloves so that they would put her in more comfortable attire. A loud gasp gained the attention of the crew and they were surprised once more at the sight of her prosthetic hand. It was so much unlike the sleeker prosthetics that Remnant used as their patient's mechanical arm was built to mimic the skeletal structure of the missing appendage. It was minimal to say the least and rather crude. Though, the weight of the metal arms gave them the impression that these could do quite a bit of damage.

Another shocked gasp caught their attention and their fears were proven true when it was revealed that her other hand was also a prosthetic. One of the nurses, an intern from Vacuo, wept at the extent of their patient's injuries. A complete removal of her uniform's top revealed that her prosthetics replaced her entire forearms and hands. Horrible marks at the point where her prosthetic meets flesh indicated that whatever caused her to lose both sections of her limbs had been hot enough to _melt_ her forearms. Respect had budded in the hearts of the staff, as the woman under their care had fought through so much worse than any of them, and still had the undying will to fight on.

All the respect that Merigold had gained for Krissa on that day was now replaced by a deep well of fear, with the tiniest hint of sympathy. Her thoughts began to revolve on how close she was to dying under the gaze of the woman that was currently strapped to like a rabid animal. How close she was to leaving her beautiful daughter alone in the world. Her shivering increased in violence and the arms around her tightened, but remained gentle enough to soothe the faunus' ailing mind.

A groan escaped Krissa's throat as she slowly regained consciousness. For the third time since she arrived on this world, she woke up to the sight of a white ceiling. It honestly irked her. She tried to lift her arms to shield her eyes, but was unable to.

"Ah, she's awake." She turned to the owner of the voice, albeit in a strained manner as there was a leather strap on her forehead, and immediately bristled at the silver-haired sorcerer's smile. Sensing the eyes of others trained on her, she began to thrash in her bonds to try to rip them off. Hell, she was even trying to reopen the stitches that she knew these people placed on her neck. A loud smack made her stop thrashing around. Fury coursed through her veins as she glared at the one who dared to slap her.

"There, now we have her attention." The portly man with a mustache took a few steps away from the bed, careful not to make any prolonged eye contact with the woman. As he moved, Oobleck stepped forth with a notebook in his hand. He muttered to himself for a bit, as if trying to make sense of what he was going to say, before looking up and stared at the woman that had tried to kill herself the day before.

" **Greetings Krissa Acrius. My name is Bartholomew Oobleck.** " Krissa turned and glared at the only individual that knew of her name. The blonde witch glared back. The green-haired man cleared his throat to gain the attention of Krissa again. When she diverted her attention to the man, he gave her a small smile. She reciprocated by spitting at him, and smirked when he frowned at the globule of saliva that landed on his face. He wiped the spittle, but could not wipe off the annoyed frown on his face.

" **Do me a favour and shoot yourself, you worthless sack of manure.** " Was her verbal response to Oobleck's courteous introduction. While Oobleck did not completely understand what she said, he knew that she was insulting him. " **The lot of you are desecrating the Holy Language of Terra with your heretical tongues. I suggest that you cut them off or I will do the honours.** "

" **Please.** **Want peace.** " Oobleck's statement caused a surprising reaction from their 'prisoner'. She laughed. She laughed as if what he had said was the funniest thing she had heard in her life. And it was. The volume of laughter and the rather maniacal tinge to it worried the personnel present. A full minute of laughter passed and Krissa had managed to calm herself down to an extent, as she was still chuckling softly at Oobleck's statement.

" **Peace?!** " She exclaimed, chuckling in between laboured breaths. " **There is NO PEACE! There is ONLY WAR!** " She raspily yelled at the Oobleck, before breaking down in a coughing fit as her neck wound began to flare, followed by quieter chuckles.

"Headmaster, can't you see that she is clearly insane?! This only enforces my statement of her being a threat to the students." Glynda exclaimed. Port nodded grimly as Ozpin stared at the strapped woman. Oobleck looked unfazed by her laughter, instead he took out three books from a satchel that he had been carrying and presented it to her. The laughter immediately stopped and the look on her face gave Oobleck an impression of a snarling Beowulf. The growling that emanated from her throat served to enhance the image.

" **Thief**." Krissa barked out. Oobleck raised an eyebrow before he was bombarded by a cacophony of slurs, insults and obscenities from the purple-eyed woman. One of the personnel had enough of the loud words and had gagged her.

" **Please. Listen. I not know speak Gothic.** " Oobleck haltingly spoke, prompting Krissa to glare at him. He ignored it as he flipped through the pages of the thinnest of the three books, albeit it being a fairly large hardcover with at least 100 pages. She recognized it as her copy of the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer. The history professor stopped and presented to her a familiar image. A large humanoid with a rather neanderthalic posture wielding a crude axe coupled with a misshapen and disproportionate face was what greeted her. Underneath the image was a description for the creature. ' _Ork Slugga Boy_ '.

" **Real?** " The man asked. A light of confusion danced behind Krissa's eye as she hesitantly nodded in response to the man's question. Humming to himself, Oobleck turned to another page. Krissa noted a brief flash of a worried expression growing on his face before he presented the page to her. This time it showed a caricature of the infamous Tyranid Hormagaunt. For a moment, Krissa felt the beast gouge her eye out once again with the scythes it had on its back. Once again the man requested validation of this creature's existence. And once again, she confirmed its existence. Unlike the last time, he visibly reacted as his eyebrows furrowed. She could not blame him. Although the caricature of a hormagaunt provided by the Uplifting Primer is a ridiculous parody of what she truly saw, the general idea of such a creature existing is a very scary thought. The same thing applied to the damnable Orks.

And since this backwater planet had no knowledge of such horrors, implanting fear into their hearts would be easier than usual. Especially if the greatest threat to this world were those black daemons with white masks. Hell, a Whiteshield could easily kill off a few of those black daemons without any trouble. The man called to her again, no doubt to confirm the existence of another entry in the Know Your Foe section of the primer. The diorama she was subjected to validation surprised her.

Three sketches of three humanoid faces greeted her. One was bloated and seemed to be covered in pus and sores. Another was of a roaring human scars and stitches littering his face. The final image was of an feminine face that would have been beautiful, if it weren't for the plethora of piercings on its face accompanied by odd protrusions from its skull. Her mind was working overtime. How can these heretics _not_ recognize what their corrupted forms would look like after they wholeheartedly sold their souls to the Dark Gods. Every servant of Chaos that they have encountered, regardless of their knowledge of the galaxy, always knew what their 'ascension' would look like.

Maybe, they weren't servants of the Dark Gods. But how would that explain those black daemons, pitiful as they were, existing on the same planet. The presence of unsanctioned psykers, or sorcerers, on this planet already raises suspicion. Having daemons reside on the same vicinity is just asking for an exterminatus to be laid upon the world. Unless, these psykers aren't responsible for the summoning of the daemons. That makes a bit of sense. Why else would these sorcerers send PDFs to exterminate daemons. A sour look grew on her face as the thought of the PDF are sent to kill daemons with the underlying agenda of them being sacrifices.

Her thoughts began to loop in a cycle of categorizing the psykers she fought as unsanctioned or Chaos worshipping heretics. Her frown grew deeper as frustration began to build up as she was not able to reach a conclusion. This greatly confused Oobleck as he watched her face contort into a frown for a while.

' _I wish I was back on Cadia. Our missions are usually so easy. They give us the intel, we swoop in and kill everyone and everything before going back home. Now there are just so many unknowns. Planet name, sector designation, allegiance, coupled with that fact that I am operating alone with no backup and no support. When did things become so confusing?_ 'She thought morosely. A quick glare was directed to Oobleck before she stared at her boots to return to her deep thoughts. Once more, she was unable to reach a conclusion, prompting her to sigh in frustration.

" **What do you think?** " She tried to asked the man, but the gag prevented her from forming any removed the gag so that she may repeat the question. It was the only way for her to know if she was knee-deep in Chaos. They may try to deceive her, and that worried her. Nevertheless, she would find out one way or another what this world really is. For know, she would have to trust the word of this academician.

" **Um..** " Oobleck looked to the ceiling with a hand stroking his chin, translating Common into Low Gothic. That and the fiery stare that this woman is giving him was starting to make him nervous. Only Glynda and an old friend of his could pull off such a look. " **Not real?** " He ventured. To his surprise, she shook her head.

" **Very real**." The pure malice that emanated from those two words caught Oobleck's attention. The degree of hate that she seems to be carrying towards these three creatures was astounding. Quite frankly, he found it very difficult to believe her claims of the monsters in her book to be real. But every time he presented her an image, there was concealed familiarity on her features. As if she had seen these things before. Judging by her scars as well as the frown that sometimes marrs her face, Oobleck can conclude that each encounter was a fight for her life.

" **Final.** " He turned to the one of the first few pages of the book. Specifically, one with the caricature of the ruler of Mankind. The God-Emperor. Oobleck noticed that her eyes softened and gained a tinge of reverence. She closed her eyes and whispered something under her breath, her lips moving slowly. After her little talk with herself, Krissa's eyes hardened once more and glared at the professor.

" **God**." Was all she said.

" **Thank you.** " The professor collected the Primer and stepped back to converse with his colleagues. The four heretics took a brief glance towards Krissa before exiting the room to converse in a more private setting. As she watched him walk away, a man began to check her over. Krissa noticed at the back of the room, the mutant was shaking in fear while being embraced by another mutant. A prick on the inside of her elbow caught her attention and once again, she began to feel the lull of unconsciousness. However, like last time, whatever drug they were using on her was ineffective as she still was conscious. Although, it seems that they had used enough to make her nigh immobile as her limbs felt impossibly heavy. The strap on her forehead was taken off and a rough hand lifted her head up and shoved something indescribably soft and comfortable under her head.

' _So soft.. When was the last time I slept in something this comfortable?_ ' Krissa wondered. All her life, her living conditions were minimalistic in order to prepare her for a harsher life in the field. Beds and pillows were firm, to improve posture without compromising spinal growth. She had fought heretics, daemons, xenos, and traitorous regiments and Astartes of all shapes and sizes. The fires of war have forged her into a grizzled veteran of carnage and death. This comfort was foreign to her, but not unwelcome.

" **Why?** " The veteran whispered in awe at the sensation of fluffy pillow supporting her head. The man only snorted before showing the soldier a controller of sorts. He pressed a button and Krissa tensed when she felt the bed underneath her _move_. He showed her which button moved the bed in which way. There was also a green button on the controller, which apparently was to notify the medicae that their patients were in need of assistance based off of the gesturing he was doing. After gingerly placing the controller in the prosthetic hands of his patient, the medical crew left Krissa alone to her devices.

Moments passed by as Krissa stared at the controller in her hand, intrigued by the functionality of a small device. Most of the technology that she has used and seen were bulky machines. Even the sleekest data-slates and auspexes were bigger than the miniscule controller that she currently wielded. Her awe quickly shifted into disgust as she crushed the controller. It had been probably tainted by the foul touch of the mutants, and was possibly tech-heresy if her memory regarding the cogheads' ramblings was still accurate.

She tried to remove the pillow from her person, but was not able to due to the straps. Much to her extreme frustration. If they planned to tempt her with the wonders of a comfortable life, then they would be sorely disappointed. Kasrkin have never broken, and she will not be the first.

"What have you learned Bartholomew?" Ozpin asked from behind his office desk, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Minimal, given the fact that I only had one night to learn as many basic words and phrases as I could." The scraggly historian responded with a pointed glare towards his boss, who did well not to flinch at the accusation. "What I have learned is that our guest is a hardened veteran of battles that Remnant has the fortune of never experiencing. The creatures she faced must have been incredibly dangerous in comparison to Grimm if her scars and prosthetics are any indication. But you already know that." He paused to take a sip of coffee, and to choose his next words.

"What you don't know is that wherever she came from, the concept of peace is as trivial as friendly Grimm." Hardened eyes met his own neutral stare.

"I find that easy to believe." Port mused while stroking his mustache. "Her first reactions to unknown situations were always with violence and aggression. Even if she saw that we were human and not whatever she had been fighting."

"Actually, there may be a reason why she tried to kill us. On her main armament was a crude inscription, the type that you have seen on weapons of the Great War. An inscription made by a blade and is possibly of great importance. I noticed it during our first encounter with her. One of the first things I did once I got my hands on her books was to find a translation of that inscription. So far I only translated one word out of four. An interesting term, one that I am very curious about." He took another sip and stared deep into the eyes of Headmaster Ozpin.

" _Psyker_." *- Fireman's carry

**- Forward Operating Base

 **Hello my friends! Here's another chapter of Beacon's Warmaster. We are now making progress, as Dr. Oobleck takes the first steps in overcoming the language barrier between the Imperial and the rest of Remnant. And it looks like our Kasrkin has made a friend, although the friendship is one-sided and very fragile. Will Imperial Doctrination destroy the connection that Nurse Merigold has for her patient? Or will this one-sided friendship bloom into something more.**

 **To those who want to see grimdark violence, you will have to wait as a few of the following chapters will be focused on the interaction between Krissa and the new world. Flashbacks may help curb your lust for grimdark, but I know that you came here to see what kind of damage an Imperial could ditch out towards the forces of evil that reside on Remnant. Be patient and ye shall reap what you have sown.**

 **Sorry for the fairly late updates, life has been very hectic for me, but since summer has begun, I shall try to update more frequently. On that note, is there anything you guys want to see happen in this fic? PM or comment for any requests and I will try to implement it.**


	5. Explosive Force

**A/N: I don't own the RWBY or the Warhammer 40K Universe. If I did, then a lot of mishaps would have happened years ago.**

* * *

One hour.

It had been one hour since she was left alone and strapped to the bed like a rabid animal. It had been one hour since she began plotting of a means to escape from this place. It also has been an hour since she grew irritated beyond belief at the infernal _tick-tock_ noise she kept hearing from the room's primeval chronograph. Growling at the noise for the umpteenth time, she went over the facts that she knew in regards to this world.

One, the group of four that she encountered and fought were undoubtedly sorcerers of some degree. The blonde witch utilized telekinesis - borrowing terms that she learned from a peculiar Astartes Librarian. The olive eyed man was a telepath. The bespectacled academician who referred to himself as Oobleck probably used some sort of sorcery that augmented his velocity. The portly man was a mystery, but she knew from experience that no _human_ could withstand multiple head-butts without gaining some form of laceration. Furthermore, the olive eyed sorcerer was unbelievably resilient despite her application of enough crush force to turn his bones into fine powder. Hell, she was able to _crush an ork slugga's jaw_ with her bionic hands, and the lack of damage was a huge clue to their true colors.

Second, the defenseless schola that she saw could be a haven for sorcerers. The slight fear that the young PDFs had shown Krissa when she encountered the blonde witch for the first time told her that the woman was in a position of power over the PDFs. The thought reviled her and frankly caused her to conclude that the schola was tainted and must be destroyed. Sorcerers being in charge of a schola was sure to yield future heretics, regardless of the student's desire. She didn't like it, as any child was one of humanity's next generations of stalwart defenders, but it had to be done for the survival of mankind.

Third, the heretics harboured unsanctioned abhumans. She may not be a hardcore puritan as some of her comrades were, but the sight of an abhuman outside of the Imperium's jurisdiction warranted her disgust. Sanctioned abhumans, to her and her family, were lost and disfigured people wanting to seek redemption in the God-Emperor's holy light. That was why she tolerated the presence of sanctioned abhumans.

Ogryns and squats, regardless of their status as abhumans, have proven to her time and again in the battlefield that they could be trusted as much as any human to carry out a task or die trying. Her heart clenched for a moment as she remembered Toff, a Bullgryn of the 75th with a heart of a child.

She did not remember when she first saw the massive (for an Ogryn) creature, but it felt in like every skirmish that she undertook, the abhuman was there in the front lines with her. Every time she saw it in the battlefield, it was almost always the exact same scene. With its grey carapace armour and massive slab shield, Toff bulldozed through enemy gates with Klank, a custom-made Ripper, blasting apart anyone and anything that dared try to cease his warpath. Outside the battlefield, the Bullgryn was like a lost Grynx cub. Anything unfamiliar caused it to panic and consequently break something. As such, it was usually assigned a companion in order to calm it when it has panic attacks. She was once its companion, staying by its side in between battles and giving it calming touches. Her assistance of Toff yielded a deep sense of loyalty from the Bullgryn. It was always close by in combat, ready to throw itself in the line of fire to protect 'nice girly'. Krissa enjoyed its company and spirit, and it was enough for her to grieve for it when it perished protecting her squad.

It had been a long time since Toff perished, but her memory regarding the abhuman was always fresh in her mind. Her family's philosophy was forged into her mind after that fateful day. Seeing the animal ears atop that woman's head caused a fury deep within her to surface. To her, humans with appendages belonging to animals of Ancient Holy Terra were living insults to humanity. The abhumans of this world were tarnishing the sacrifice of redeemed souls like Toff, and as such, they must be eradicated. Annihilated. _Exterminated._

The fourth object of concern are the daemons that roam the forests at the edge of the schola. They weren't that much of a threat; one well placed lasbolt on regular settings will probably be enough to kill a daemon. Though, she was a little worried about the bigger ones. Using hi-power shots would damage her hellgun's barrel and the avian daemons would probably fly too high up for any lasbolt to hit.

Fifth, she did not know where the rest of her equipment was taken to. Although she could see that the top half of her BDUs were draped on a chair at the corner of the room, the upper body portions of her carapace armour and her weapons were nowhere to be seen. Her anger spiked for a moment as her equipment was an extension of her soul and by proxy, the Emperor's will. Maybe she should interrogate this Oobleck character to find out where the heretics kept it.

Finally, there was the question of human settlements. The sight of these heretics, no matter how worrying, gave her a bit of hope knowing that the Warp had graciously (?) threw her and her father in a world populated by humans. The problem was that she did not know where any of the human settlements are located. She did not have any form of topographical data and her dataslate is essentially useless at this moment of time. Usually their commanding officers would upload data of a planet prior to a mission, but since she's operating behind enemy lines and alone, then she would have to rely on maps or data from this planet's cogitators.

The biggest challenges would be the four sorcerers that she would undoubtedly face, but if she does everything with the proper application of stealth, then the chances of encountering them would be minimal. However, if she had to, she would introduce these heretics to the wrath of the Kasrkin.

* * *

At the spire of Beacon Academy's tallest tower, Ozpin silently examined a few of the items that they have taken from their guest. Morally, it was a wrong thing to do; taking things from the unconscious and wounded, but his worry for the safety of Remnant could not be quenched due to the Queen's advances. The appearance of Krissa Acrius gave him an opportunity to have a wild card on his side against the Queen. However, he needed to learn more about her before he could employ her. Besides the books that Oobleck have been religiously studying, he had a few items of interest.

On his desk was a pendant of a two-headed eagle and a few dog-tags. There was also a camera attached to her armour, but they did not tamper with it as they feared that information that is held inside that camera might be destroyed when removed from the armour. Four of the dog-tags shared a last name, Acrius. Zachariah Acrius, Eileen Acrius, Krissa Acrius, and Emile Acrius. Knowledge that he had another individual belonging to a family of warriors in his academy certainly made him more eager to have Krissa on his side. The other dog-tags probably were from old comrades, but he noticed that the bloodstains on them looked fairly new. However, one dog-tag stood out from the rest.

A set of dog-tags belonging to an Icarus Gundyr.

The dog-tag had a dull grey colour to it compared to the matte olive drab that the other dog-tags had. It also had a few feathers belonging to an animal not native to Remnant tied to it near the chain. Since there were no birds in Remnant with feathers that changed colours depending on the amount of light shining upon it. In low-light, it was navy blue in colour and its shade gradually lightened to a very pure shade of white as the brightness of light increased. What caught his attention was a silver ring with gold engravings. An identical ring was found on Krissa Acrius' dog tags. He didn't want to jump to conclusion in regards to the purpose of these rings, but he had a very good guess as to what they were.

Though, the only way he would know for certain was if he asked his guest. Beeping noises emanated from his scroll and checked his scroll to investigate. A low hum reverberated from his throat as he read the message sent to him by Ms. Goodwitch.

" _The others and I have created a schedule for security of Ms. Acrius. I shall be in charge during first period as I have a prep period; Professor Peach shall watch over her on second period. Periods three and four would be between Professor Port and Professor Oobleck, depending on who is on break on the period. Fifth and sixth period would be up to both Head Engineer Bolt and Forgemaster Brim. I have to check up on her tonight before I have to return to my paperwork. Have a good evening Headmaster."_

He spared a glance at his monitor to watch the room in which their guest resided in. His eyes furrowed at her sudden stillness as he expected her to make an effort to escape the room. ' _What are you planning?_ '

* * *

"You didn't have to come with us Professor." Two of Beacon's Medical Team walked towards Krissa's room to conduct a quick check up and to give her a meal. According to Ms. Goodwitch, their patient/prisoner has not eaten a meal ever since she arrived. The speaker, an ex-hunter and nurse-in-training named Jasper Blackwood pushed a cart containing a basic dinner of steak, mashed potatoes and gravy. A bearded man in his late twenties, Jasper had eyes the colour of forest pine and hair the colour of charred wood. The man was a third year drop-out of Beacon and a native of Vale, he had his fair share of Grimm hunting and peacemaking. However, it was the call to medicine that made him shift his attention from the art of killing to the art of healing.

"It's for your own safety" The disciplinarian responded with a tone that left little for argument. She looked at the corner of her eye to see the fox-faunus that the soldier tried to kill within minutes of her waking hour.

Nurse Merigold was clutching a clipboard containing forms regarding their patient's health. Her shoulders shook minutely in fear of meeting her would-be murderer once more, but she felt that she had to do it. Fear was a dangerous emotion; it makes people do stupid things. Thus she had to conquer her fear because if the time came when Ms. Acrius _needed_ her medical expertise, her oath as a woman of medicine _must_ overcome her fear. Delilah Carmine Merigold, widow of Huntsman Cornelius Merigold and loving mother of Lavender Elisia Merigold, vowed that she would not stoop to the White Fang's level just so that she would conquer her own fear.

"We're here." Jasper informed the group as he stopped right in front of the door. "Delilah, before we go, are you sure that you absolutely want to do this? You can meet Acrius some other time, when you're feeling up to it."

"N-no." Delilah stuttered slightly, before calming herself a bit. "I need to do this now, because I know that I will try to prolong this encounter. T-this fear must be conquered for my safety and for hers." Goodwitch and Jasper traded looks, before relenting to Delilah's request.

"Fine, but don't blame me or Ms. Goodwitch when you start having panic attacks." He sounded a little callous, but Delilah knew that he cared. After all, he was the one who comforted her when she nearly died.

* * *

She heard them speaking to each other outside of her room. Three distinct voices conversing in not so hushed tones. The arrival of 'guests' was an unwanted deterrent to her plans, so she had to improvise. So she closed her eye and pretended to be asleep. When the door opened, her sense of smell was assaulted by a tantalizing scent. Being sustained mainly by tasteless and scentless MRE's or barracks food for a good majority of her life meant that the scent was foreign to her. Though the scent's foreign origin did not deter from its sinfully tantalizing goal of coaxing her hunger.

She willed herself to ignore the scent, reminding herself that the people who are responsible for the scent are heretics, mutants, and sorcerers. The squeaking of inadequately oiled wheels approached her bed, as well as the scent. The noise stopped roughly an arm's length to her right, but she could still hear the shuffling of clothing and the footsteps of the three visitors as they walked around her. The familiar clacking of those unfamiliar shoes that the blonde witch wore stopped to her left. One set of footsteps was moving about near her feet while the last set of footsteps stopped dangerously close to her.

"Hey wake up." She heard a man speak, but refused to open her eye. Rather, she remembered something that would tip the scales to her favour. Subtly moving her jaw, she dislodged a false tooth that contained a minute dose of combat stimulants. It had been added when Chaos came to Cadia's doorstep for their most recent Black Crusade. The effects would only last for a few minutes, but that is all the time that she needed for her plan to succeed.

* * *

"Hey wake up." Jasper politely tried to rouse the admittingly pretty woman strapped to the bed. Ever since they walked into the room, the lady had been asleep. Though, he couldn't shake off this feeling of foreboding and by the looks of it, Ms. Goodwitch also was having the same feelings. Then, he heard a crunch. It was nigh inaudible and originated from the woman. As soon as he heard the noise, Krissa tensed up. Then, the slow rhythmic beeping of the heart beat monitor sped up and became erratic.

"What's going on?" Goodwitch asked in alarm.

"I don't know, she just tensed up and her vitals are going haywire!" Merigold exclaimed as she rummaged through the cabinets in search for something to calm down their patient's erratic heart. A cry of pain caught their attention as Jasper clutched his face, with smoke seeping through the cracks of his fingers. Ripping leather was heard immediately after, and before they knew it, Krissa leapt out of bed to tackle Goodwitch. The huntress was caught off guard by her burst of strength and aggression and was not able to call upon her semblance in time to defend herself.

As soon as the blonde's body impacted the floor, Krissa straddled her chest and rained devastating blows upon her face. Although she was augmented by Aura, Goodwitch could not do anything as her arms were pinned by the Kasrkin's legs. All she could do was close her eyes and hope that her Aura would protect her from most of the damage as well as the broken fragments of her glasses. The sound of metal impacting flesh and glass were the last things she heard before she blacked out.

Meanwhile, Merigold had filled a syringe with sedatives and was stealthily approaching the volatile woman as she bludgeoned the witch of Beacon. When she was behind Krissa, she mentally apologized to the woman before stabbing her with the syringe. She did not expect Krissa to elbow her gut. Unlike the other two Beacon occupants of the room, Merigold did not have her aura unlocked. So when Krissa rose to smash Merigold's face to her knee, a sickening noise and an explosion of pain dominated the faunus' senses. She fell to the ground clutching her nose in pain.

As Merigold writhed in pain, Krissa knelt down and wrapped her bionic digits around the prone woman's neck. But before she could snap the abhuman's neck, a reflection of light caught her attention. One of the hands wrapped around the bleeding nose had a gold ring wrapped around a finger. For a moment, all her hate and all her anger took a backseat in her mind as she gently ran her metal fingers on the band. Years of mental conditioning and emotional repression were thrown out the window as she remembered what she almost had. Years of suffering and hardships were forgotten as she remembered the quiet whispers and warm embraces.

All of it was brought back to her when she remembered his broken promise.

A lone tear escape her violet eye before she broke the abhuman's wrist with a furious roar. Krissa was about to silence the infernal screaming with a fist to the mouth when grabbed her behind and locked her arms behind her head.

"Run Delilah!" Even though she could not understand that words that came out of his mouth, Krissa could hear the tone of desperation in her male captor's voice as she tried to break out of the arm lock. She idly gave the abhuman some credit, as it managed to remain conscious enough to make an escape despite the pain it must be feeling. "You're not going anywhere you bitch. Not while I'm still breathing." The man, who a point blank from her bionic eye's trump card, whispered in her ear whilst tightening the arm lock.

She tried to break free, but Jasper was much stronger to her due to his natural bulk and Aura. He tried to trip her by placing a leg between hers, so that he could keep her immobile until the others arrive. Dark thoughts plagued his mind as he struggled to pin her down, begging him to kill her. And he was very much tempted to do so, for hurting his co-worker and fellow huntress. He was not expecting for her to bend over, grab his leg and lift him off of the ground. Knowing what would come after, he let go of her neck and kicked her on the face. As she tumbled backwards in surprise, he rolled on the ground and grabbed a bonesaw. On the other hand, Krissa grabbed a scalpel.

The Kasrkin grit her teeth as she glared at the medicae, mind working furiously to comprehend why his face is missing the gaping hole that usually followed after a hit from her bionic eye. At the corner of her eye, she found her answer. The man was like the blonde witch, a sorcerer in disguise, and he was blocking the only door out. Years of training and frantic last stands deciphered her current situation with the medicae-heretic. She could see that the man was simply buying time for more sorcerers to arrive, and with their infernal magics, they could very well kill her with a thought. So, she had to resort to utilising a meat shield and there was one conveniently located nearby.

Dashing towards the unconscious woman, Krissa held the small blade against the witch's neck. The man hesitated and was glaring at her with great intensity. When he made no indication of standing down, she dug the blade into the woman's neck, weakening the magical shield surrounding her. Only then did the man accept his defeat. Resisting the urge to smirk, Krissa hooked an arm around the witch's waist and lifted her with a bit of difficulty. She motioned the man to exit the room and drop his weapon. He reluctantly obeyed and dropped his weapon as he got out of the room. As he went out, she followed with haste.

"Out." Krissa spoke, gaining the man's attention. When he gave her a confused look, she pressed the blade deeper into Goodwitch's neck, prompting the huntress' weakened aura to try to protect its owner. "Me. Out." She could see him grinding his teeth together in anger as he pointed to her right. "You. Lead." Krissa ordered the man, and hugged the wall so that he could go in front of her. Jasper glared at her before walking towards the elevator, mindful not to go too far or too close as the woman may slit Glynda's throat if she felt threatened. A subtle glance was cast towards one of the cameras and he was glad to see that it was trained them.

* * *

" _Attention all staff and students, we are now on lockdown. Students please remain in your dorms and do not, under any circumstance, leave your rooms. The staff shall deal with the threat present in the building."_ Ruby read the message on her scroll out loud, even though her teammates also received the same message. "What do you think that's about?"

"No idea. Might be Grimm?" Yang ventured a guess.

"It can't be Grimm. We're students in a school that teaches us how to kill Grimm, so if anything Grimm would be practice for us and should warrant a lockdown." Blake answered, unable to focus on her novel. The message was sent a few minutes ago and anything that could incite a reaction like that from the headmaster must be a very big threat. "It's something worse."

"What could be worse than Grimm?" Ruby inquired.

"The White Fang, for one." Weiss commented off-handedly with bitterness in her voice. Blake bristled at the response, but bit her tongue. The faunus-in-hiding just waved it off as the heiress being annoyed that she wasn't made leader if her reaction during the announcement of teams was any indication. Though, she couldn't help but feel angry at her for even suggesting that a misdirected organization dedicated to equality was worse than monsters whose sole purpose was to eradicate humanity.

"What would the White Fang have to gain from attacking a school filled to the brim with hunters and huntresses?" Yang asked Weiss, not noticing Blake's wince at the reference of the White Fangs recently violent actions. "Whatever, or whoever, causing this kind of a ruckus in the school must be pretty dangerous for us." The blonde finished with a rare look of seriousness on her face, but it was broken when she saw her sister looking at her in shock and awe.

"Who are you?" Ruby whispered, prompting a raised eyebrow. "Who are you and what have you done to my sister?!" The young reaper exclaimed while pointing at her sister. "Yang never had any of these moments of insightfulness!"

"Hey!" The older of the two siblings exclaimed as she wrapped an arm around the reaper. Ignoring the pitiful cries of mercy from underneath, Yang Xiao Long unleashed a noogie of epic proportions that only older siblings could give.

From across the room, Weiss scowled before crawling into her bed and wrapping a pillow over her head to muffle the noises of two fighting siblings. Meanwhile, Blake stared out the window, deep in thought about what her partner had said.

' _What would the White Fang gain if they were to attack this school?_ '

* * *

"We have a grave situation in our hands, my friends. As of right now, Krissa Acrius, a guest of ours that was detained for her violent nature, is making her towards the main elevator. She currently has two of our staff members, Ms. Goodwitch and Nurse Jasper Blackburn, as hostages. For the safety of our students and innocents, detainment will not suffice. I'm afraid that I must ask you to kill her. She is much too dangerous to be kept alive." Ozpin spoke to the other hunters residing in Beacon via an earpiece connected to a private channel in his scroll.

"I told you so Ozpin." Port huffed as he thundered through the hallways. Defiance, the blunderbuss-axe hybrid that got the man through the hardest of missions, shone dangerously in the light as the heavyset hunter gripped on the lacquered mahogany handguard tightly.

"How was this guest of yours able to capture two licensed hunters Headmaster? From what Ms. Goodwitch told us an hour ago, she didn't have any aura and was stripped of her weaponry." Brim, a dark-skinned man with eyes the colour of the fires of a forge, asked with his deep voice. His response was a video sent by the Headmaster. Slowing down to a brisk walk, Brim opened the file and watched how Krissa brutally escaped from her confinement. The man scowled when he saw the woman used Glynda's unconscious body as leverage against the young hunter.

"She's pretty strong then for a civvie." Bolt commented, his steel grey eyes watching the video from behind Brim. Although he was shorter than Brim, he had no trouble seeing what had occurred. He noticed that the blacksmith was clutching the scroll rather hardly. Sighing deeply and running a hand through his thinning gray hair, Bolt closed the scroll for his colleague before the larger man accidentally destroys it. Brim calmed down and gave Bolt a reassuring smile. The older man rolled his eyes as he took off again, as he they were making their way to the hospital's main floor elevator.

"I find this odd as Glynda told me when you four returned that the woman was struggling to break free. An hour later, she just rips them off without any effort. There's another variable to this." Peach spoke up, her quiet voice was unaffected by the sprinting she was doing from her lab towards the elevators. The petite professor was essentially Glynda's best friend in the school and seeing her friend get hurt badly was enough of an excuse for the small woman to hate Glynda's attacker.

"I agree, something must have happened to Krissa for her to gain a boost in strength. However, only she knows the answer and I am absolutely certain that she would take that piece of information to the grave." Ozpin morbidly responded to Peach. Then he noticed something odd. Oobleck has been oddly quiet throughout the conversation. _Too_ quiet. "Bartholomew, are you there?"

"You have been quiet, old friend." Port quipped, he was the first one of the group to reach the main floor's elevator and was repeatedly pressing the down button.

"It's just….." The history professor began before sighing loudly. "We could have learned something from her. Something useful. Something _new_. Information about a world that is a complete unknown to us. Information about a civilization that has a technological advantage over us. Her books are only the beginning and probably contain very little compared to what she knows. I want to know more about _her_."

"If this were a different circumstance, I would've said that you had a crush on her." Peach teased and was closing in on the main elevator. "However, we can't have everything and we can't save everyone. I'm sorry, but this has to be done."

"I know, but that does not mean that I want to do this."

"She's in the elevator." Ozpin's voice broke through the conversation and everyone momentarily stiffened before redoubling their efforts to either reach the main elevator. Port even forcefully opened one of the elevator doors on the main floor with his bare hands and began to climb up the elevator's emergency ladder.

* * *

When they reached the elevator, Krissa kicked Jasper inside before entering. The man glared at her and was tempted to close the doors without her inside. Before he could even do so, she had already entered and reminded him that Glynda's life was in his hands by digging the scalpel against her neck. To his worry, the blade drew blood. Unwilling to be the cause of Goodwitch's death, Jasper clicked the main floor's button and stepped back.

As he waited for the damnable doors to open, he noticed that his captor was slightly shaking and was starting to breathe heavily. Her grip on Goodwitch was starting to slip and each time she tightened her arm, it slackened not soon after. Her eye, once sharp and focused, began to dilate. He also noticed that she was swallowing at an increased rate. His eyes widened as he recognized the symptoms of stimulant withdrawal from her. It meant that it wouldn't be long before she would be too weak to fight back. All he needed was a distraction.

Meanwhile, Krissa was feeling the full force of the combat stimulant's side effects. Her muscles began to burn from her past exertions. Her eyesight was starting get blurry and her lungs desired more air than she could inhale. A throat drier than the sands of Tallarn was making her very irritable as well. At the corner of her eye, she could see her the other sorcerer staring at her with a tensed up posture. ' _What is he planning?_ '.

Before she could address the paranoia building up in her mind, a loud thud from above startled her. Said thud shook the elevator and staggered the occupants. Unfortunately for her, her arm gave out and the blonde witch fell from her grasp. That was when her male hostage struck. He closed the distance in a quick step and slammed his fist against her right cheek. She tried to retaliate, but he weaved out of the way.

"Whoever's up there, help me out! Goodwitch is free!" Jasper yelled at his saviour while keeping his eyes trained at the woman in front of him. Her breathing began to increase in fervor, no doubt that adrenaline was kicking in once again. He kept himself between her and Goodwitch, acting as a shield for the still unconscious professor. Not waiting for her to gain an advantage, he lunged for her again.

He did not expect her to push off against the wall to tackle him mid-lunge. When his back hit the metal wall of the elevator, she began to punch him at the ribs relentlessly. It surprised him as he thought that she was too weak to fight back due to stimulant withdrawal. A creak from above caught his attention, and he saw Professor Port aiming Defiance at his aggressor's back. However, Krissa also heard the creak and removed herself from the huntsman just as Port fired his weapon.

* * *

A loud bang startled the occupants of the hospital and got the attention of the Hunters and Huntress present. Brim and Bolt sped up, with the blacksmith eager to neutralize the threat running in school grounds and the engineer hoping that said threat would not be a stain on the ground when Brim and Port are finished with her. Oobleck frowned as he neared the main elevator, mentally grumbling at the loss of any prospect of peace with the Kasrkin.

"That's Port, he's found her." Peach commented as she stared at the broken elevator doors. One of the elevators to her right chimed and when they opened, she was surprised to see a weeping Delilah cradling her broken wrist. "Oum almighty, Delilah are you alright?"

The fox-faunus could not answer, but she shook her head. She was not used to this degree of pain, and was starting to regret coming with Jasper to help out with Krissa. Gentle hands lifted her up and Delilah's watery eyes could barely make out the sympathetic peach eyes of the biology professor. "It hurts." She choked out in between sobs and pain-filled hiccups.

Her uninjured hand was carefully moved out of the way before the calloused fingertips of Professor Peach lightly pressed against the affected area. Warmth began to spread from the area of contact and Merigold was relieved to have her pain subside. Briefly she wondered why Peach refused to take a medical degree rather than a biology degree because she could have eased a lot of pain with her semblance. While not an overtly powerful semblance, Peach could 'share' her aura with anyone. This 'transfer' gives the recipient a boost in energy and minor enhancement in strength. The warmth around her wrist was an after effect of Aura's pain nullifying properties.

"Better?" The biology professor asked kindly, and she was rewarded with a thankful nod. Helping the faunus to her feet, Peach took her out of the elevator.

"I'll take her off of your hands." Peach turned around to see a somber Oobleck looking at the duo. Behind his glasses, she could see the inquisitive man was saddened by the turn of events. Sensing that the man would like to be away from the killing, she handed the nurse over to him. The history professor walked away with his charge towards a safer area in the hospital where other doctors could treat her.

As they rounded the corner, Brim and Bolt came into sight with weapons unholstered. "As soon as the elevator arrives, unleash hell."

* * *

At the dorms adjacent to the hospital, team JNPR jumped in surprise from the gunshot.

"Who shot that?" Jaune looked up from his scroll.

"I would assume that would be the staff dealing with the threat that is running amok on campus." Pyrrha answered as she returned cleaning her equipment.

"Well I think that someone in team RWBY finally snapped and shot someone." Nora threw in one of her theories.

"Nora, that's preposterous. The girls wouldn't do that." Jaune retorted, looking at the team's resident explosives expert in shock.

"Are you sure fearless leader? Have you seen the murderous glare that Weiss gave Ruby back at initiation." A manic gleam was in her eye.

"She's got a bit of a point." Ren answered, and when he spoke JNPR listened. There was an awkward silence after he spoke as JNPR resumed their activities prior to the gunshot.

"Hey Jaune, what are you reading?" Pyrrha asked her leader, who had been pouring over his scroll ever since they returned to the dorms.

"I'm doing some research. Did you remember what the symbol on that Krissa's armour looked like?" He responded, not looking up from his scroll. The young Arc's eyes were narrowed in focus and his jaw was clenched as he found another dead end in his research. This look of focus had the effect of flustering his partner.

"It was a double-headed Nevermore." She managed to keep her voice level as she fought down her blush.

"Not Nevermore, it looked more like an eagle. Y'know like those animals in protection facilities*." Pyrrha nodded, and prompted him to continue. "Believe it or not, I have seen this symbol before back in my home. However, I can't seem to find information about it online."

"Why don't you just call your parents?" The champion saw him stiffen and was curious at his reaction.

"I can't.. There are… Complications between me and my family as of now. And I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand." Pyrrha relented to his request, ignoring the nagging thought to bug him about it.

* * *

Jasper's aura levels were just enough to absorb the force from the dust-round. Unfortunately, the interception caused his aura to shatter; a testament to how powerful Defiance was regardless of its antique look. He saw his body flicker in pine green light before exhaustion engulfed his being. The gunshot caused Goodwitch to stir minutely, but she still remained unconscious.

He tried to get up, but was soon pushed back down with a forceful kick. Any further attempts were ceased when she broke his right leg with a powerful stomp. Just as he opened his mouth to cry in pain, a bionic fist smashed itself square on his face. The blow got him in a daze, but he was lucid enough to see her ram a cloth covered fist into the elevator's controls. The bionic limb went _right through_ the metal plate. He briefly noted that if he could see a reflection of himself, it would be of him with his jaw wide open. This sort of feat was something he could see hunters pulling off, _not_ a 'normal' human. Soon, he would learn that Krissa Acrius was not a normal human.

HIs musings were interrupted when the elevator experienced a sudden drop. Thankfully, the lift's emergency systems were able to stop them from plummeting all the way down to the main floor. Unfortunately, the sudden change from free-fall acceleration and a total stop caused Port to lose his balance. This resulted in him accidentally discharging Defiance towards the elevator's cable housing.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-"

* * *

"-UUUUUUUUUUUUU-" The scraping of metal against metal and the screaming of a man notified of their target's arrival. However, the same noises also meant that something was very wrong. A metal box with a man on top sped past the main floor's doors with sparks flying out.

"Port!" Brim shouted and peered down the elevator shaft and was surprised to see that there was a floor about six feet below the surface, but no elevator.

"Uh, guys… The elevator disappeared." Two more heads joined his as they stared at the floor in confusion.

"How'd this happen?" Bolt asked and simply let the question hang in the air as the three of them tried to comprehend the elevator's disappearance.

* * *

"-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" Jasper's scream ended just before the elevator hit the ground. The force of the impact caused them to fly about 2 feet above the elevator floor before being painfully reaquainted to gravity. When Jasper hit the floor, Krissa fell on top of his broken leg causing the fractured bone to break skin. He screamed for but a moment before passing out from the pain.

Atop the elevator, the sudden stop caused Port to hit his head quite painfully against the cable's housing, knocking out the veteran huntsman. The only person who was conscious was none other than Krissa. The Kasrkin laid down for a few moments to catch her breath and to get used to the burning that she was feeling throughout her body. Once she felt that she was okay, she exited the elevator with a scalpel in hand and travelled down the dark corridors in front of her.

Minutes pass and Krissa has yet to find a way out. Part of the problem was that she was lost in the dark hallways, as there were no indications of her location. So far, she has been trusting her gut on which hallway to choose when there was a fork. It was driving her mad. Another issue that she was facing was the side effects of the combat stimulants she took. Specifically, her agonized muscles screaming for her to stop moving to let them rest. She couldn't take the risk of being caught as she rested, so she powered on and did her best to ignore the pain.

" **I am going to kill whoever designed this place.** " She muttered as she took a left turn. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she spotted a massive door at the end of the hallway. She speed walked towards the door and with the final vestiges of her energy, she opened them. The Kasrkin resisted the urge to curse out loud when she entered yet another hallway. However, unlike the dark and barely illuminated corridors, she was in a grand hall fit for those parties that Imperial Nobles loved to have. As she carefully entered the hall, she spied an odd contraption to her right.

Her curiosity, an emotion that she was very rarely subjected to, spiked as she saw two glass sarcophagi connected by a machine when she got closer. To her surprise, inside one of the sarcophagi was a woman. Bandages covered her modesty as well as one eye. She was also still breathing, but barely as she noted the minimal rise and fall of her chest. What caught he majority of her attention was the fact that the woman was glowing in gold light. And unbeknownst to her, Krissa was also glowing. Initially it was faint, but as she got closer to the glass pod, it grew in intensity. However, the colour of the light emitting from Krissa's corona of light was a sickly shade of pink and purple reminiscent of the Immaterium.

As she got closer, the light increased in intensity as it was trying to escape its glass prison. She also started to feel a warmth permeating from the woman. A warmth that she felt once in her lifetime. It was when she was in the presence of the Imperial Saint Celestine of the Adeptus Sororitas. The warmth was _intoxicating_. As if she was a possessed, Krissa raised her hand and made contact with the glass. What she felt next was nothing short of agony.

A portion of the gold light jumped into her hand and made its way to her head. Once the first tendril entered her skull, an immense pressure engulfed her mind. Her training against psychic presences was made null by the sheer power of the psychic energy assaulting her mind. The pain was so great that she did not feel herself fall to the ground and convulse. The agony ended with a sight that she will never forget for the rest of her life.

' _Begone warpspawn_!' An ethereal voice, powerful and full of conviction, echoed in her mind as an image of a man donning grand golden armour and a flaming sword dominated her vision. Tears escaped her convulsing body as she recognized him. After all, who wouldn't?

* * *

Miles away from the phenomenon, at the centre of a barren wasteland crawling with Grimm, a woman shudders. Salem, the mother of Grimm looked at the horizon in surprise before her visage morphed to that of fury.

"Ensure that nothing enters my chambers." She ordered a Seer as she made her way to her private chambers. The Grimm glowed in understanding as it relayed her message to her subordinates residing within the fortress. When she entered her room, she immediately locked the doors and turned to an rune etched to the wall adjacent to the door. Drawing a knife, Salem cut her palm and smudged black ichor atop the rune, causing it to glow in a miasmic colour of purple.

As if it were alive, her blood began to move in its own. The droplets defied gravity and moved in a circle. Some droplets deviated from the path and created arrows of black blood pointing at the cardinal points of Remnant. Moments later, the blood stopped and the sigil painted on the wall pulsed in power. Salem kneeled and raised her arms to proudly display identical sigils carved into her forearms.

The sigil of Chaos.

A tendril of warp energy escaped the symbol and wrapped around her head. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as a link was established to the most prominent residents of the warp.

"My lords, I have felt Anathema's soul stir."

" _Most interesting."_ A voice spoke, soft and meticulous, as if it were contemplating and calculating the words it uttered. The sigil pulsed once more, this time in a blue colour. " _A new piece whose fate I can toy with._ "

" _It means she has failed to kill the Imperial that has entered this planet! This incompetence and lack of action demands punishment!"_ The sigil pulsed more powerfully this time, a shade of red dominating the blood that drew the mark. The voice, rough and strong, roared in fury and Salem winced at the tone. " _Your Grimm may be competent in granting my realm more blood, but this failure of yours cannot be overlooked._ "

" _And what punishment do you think is enough for her._ " Salem shivered at the seductive tone of the next voice. The owner of the voice, while young in comparison to the others, still gave her the chills. There's also the fact that his/her area of expertise is inflicting maximum amounts of pain. " _Perhaps I can help with finding an appropriate course of action, Khorne dearest._ "

"She was sent to the outskirts of the academy where the defenders of the Anathema's vessel reside. I couldn't risk gaining Ozpin's attention. He's been wary of my movements ever since the failed attack on the Fall Maiden." As soon as she reasoned her inaction, a powerful pressure assaulted her mind, threatening to obliterate it. Black ichor flowed from her tear ducts and nose as the psychic assault of Tzeentch slowly crushed her mind.

" _You dare make excuses at us, girlie?"_ Tzeentch's voice become maniacal. " _I certainly did not foresee our loyal servant acting like a procrastinating child. What's next, you'll become a rebellious teenager?!"_

" _Enough Tzeentch._ " The grandfatherly voice of the fourth god echoed in her mind and the pressure was immediately lifted. Salem felt her body lurch forwards and her hands plant themselves onto the ground to prevent her from hitting the ground. " _While your caution is noted my dear, need we remind you what you were before we found you?"_

"No milord." Salem quietly responded, both out of fear of remembering what she was and out of respect towards the eldest god. Nurgle was always patient with her, but she could clearly hear that his tone suggests that he was anything but patient at that moment.

" _Then find a way to eliminate the vestiges of the Anathema's power as soon as you can. My patience is not infinite and the longer you spend making excuses, the higher the chance for more of the Corpse-Emperor's forces to arrive to this planet. It has been ten thousand years since the Anathema created the forsaken barrier that prevents the Warp from reaching this planet. So far, this miniscule rift you have found is the only viable presence of the Warp for parsecs. So hurry my child, and conquer this world. Your efforts will be rewarded in the end."_ With his speech over, Nurgle withdrew from her mind and so did the rest of the gods bar the God of Fate.

" _Nurgle might be very lenient with you, but remember that your Grimm will not exist without us. So don't toy with fate, or you will suffer by all of our hands."_ Tzeentch withdrew from her mind, but not without a 'gift'. A blue bolt of warp lightning escaped the sigil and impacted the exhausted form of the Grimm matriarch. A scream tore itself from her lips as she was forced to relive memory after painful memory of her abused life.

Outside her chambers, the Grimm howled in agony as they felt their mother's duress.

* * *

*- I always thought that Remnant has facilities where endangered animals, mostly predators, are kept. Think of an indoor zoo, but with heavier security.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello guys, it's been a while and I'm dreadfully sorry for taking this long to update. I just started my first year in University, and it's hell on earth for me at the moment trying to balance my life with the uni-life. It doesn't help that I am distracted with another project of great value.**

 **Anyways, I'll try to update more frequently but I can't promise you that I'll update bi-weekly or something like that. On the other hand, I have started a poll in regards to the S3 finale. Would you like Ms. Nikos to perish and give Jaune fuel for the fires of vengeance, or would you like her to survive, so that she will be 'rebuilt' from the ground up.**

 **Finally, after thinking this through, I will redact my statement of Krissa being the only Imperial Soldier on Remnant. She will gain a partner later on, but her partner will be the only Imperial that will be present on Remnant along with Krissa. And please don't PM me about ideas on who her partner will be, I already made the storyline and the notes about her partner.**

 **That is all that I have to say, so I bid thee adieu and will see you again in the next chapter.**

 **Oh, and please don't forget to rate or review. A review would mean to world to me and would continue to fuel me in my endeavour to entertain you all with this story of badasses in a world unfamiliar with war.**

 **Shout out to Varangue for beta-reading (even though I uploaded this chapter before sending it to him for beta-reading XD). Guess I was too excited.**


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